With This Ring
by pjzallday
Summary: (Sequel to Windows) Spike has asked Buffy to marry him. Will it be happily ever after? COMPLETE (Some language mature content)
1. Prologue Love

DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. I just borrowed them over the summer to amuse myself.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is canon to the end of Season 6 and is the sequel to _The Windows of His Soul_. (The 2 story series contains spoilers/references to episodes throughout season 1-6, with an emphasis on season 5/6 Buffy/Spike scenes --- so that means all the wonderful and terrible things that have happened in the lives of our TV friends is fair game). With that said.

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_WITH THIS RING_

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Prologue:  LOVE

He sat alone on the steps of the Summers' back porch, his hands plunged deep in the pockets of his duster.  There was a chill in the early autumn night air that caused him to shiver a little.  For the first time since he'd acquired the long black leather coat, (having taken it from the still warm body of the New York City Slayer he'd killed decades earlier), he was wearing it to keep warm.

The cold had never bothered him before.  He was a vampire; undead.  His body adjusted to the temperature without him really noticing.  Back then, he wore the duster as a symbol of his darkness, his status as the "Big Bad", the killer of Slayers.

Things were different now; Spike was different.  In the late spring, he'd left, gone to Africa and returned to Sunnydale months later in the hopes of making amends for past wrongs committed there --- or at least those made against the woman he loved.  He'd come home a changed man --- an actual living breathing man.  A man who felt the cold.  A man who felt the pain of loss, remorse for old sins, loneliness. but who also felt the inner warmth of love.

Buffy loved him. She'd told him so, and shown him. Earlier that evening, Spike and Buffy had made love for the first time. (Sure, there was no forgetting all the amazing sex of the previous winter but this was tender passionate heartfelt love; the joining not only of bodies, but hearts and minds, and souls.)

Sitting on the step, Spike was reflecting on his 'life' as a vampire particularly in recent years.  How hard it was for him to believe the character he'd been only decades earlier was the same guy who'd risked his own life for that of a Slayer, her kid sis' and a gang of misfits.  What an influence Buffy had had on his life.

He'd shared his life with women before, Drusilla mainly.  She had long been his "dark princess".  He'd spent the better part of the last century and more, trying to win her heart, looking after her, lavishing her with gifts, trying to step out of the shadow cast by her sire.  But that shadow was long, and time and time again, he'd been blocked by it.  Even after Spike had given up on Dru and his affections had turned to another, Angel still overshadowed him.  Angel was Buffy's first real love, and as many the romantic will attest, you never forget your first love. 

"Bollocks!" he growled bitterly into the night.  

Fumbling in his pocket, Spike retrieved a tiny velvet drawstring purse from which he fished out a small twisted golden band with three brilliant olive green stones atop it: his mother's ring.  She'd given it to him after his father died, making him the head of the household.  Her hope was that it might encourage the shy young man to focus his efforts with earnest to finding a woman with whom to make a home and family.  William's mother had always had great hopes for her son's happiness, though she'd also been well aware that he felt more deeply than most young men.  As a result, she feared his emotions would eventually get the better of him and of course, they had.  It was the hopelessness of rejection that led William in tears to a dim alley one night more than one hundred years ago --- the night he met with a raven-haired stranger and his own death.

What would his mother have said if she'd been told that her ring would travel around the world, crossing five continents and spanning three centuries before he found someone worthy to wear it?

------- o -------

Buffy joined him on the step, dressed in a pair of sweats and his black silk shirt, unbuttoned, but wrapped and tied at her waist.  In the moonlight, her skin seemed to glow.  Wisps of her tawny hair danced on the gentle breeze.  _So beautiful,_ he thought.  He'd found her attractive since the moment he'd first seen her dancing at the Bronze years earlier.  Back then, her physical allure would only make the "dance" to her death more entertaining for Spike.  Though his feelings for her had long since changed, it was only recently --- since his return from Africa and the night they'd rekindled their relationship --- that he felt allowed to admire her beauty openly.

Spike wasn't sure that the time was right; he'd only been back in Sunnydale a few days.  But they'd been a marvellous few days.  Coming home (and "home" really was how he'd come to think of Sunnydale) was more wonderful than he'd ever imagined.  Buffy had forgiven him for his transgressions of that past spring in her bathroom. She'd come to realize that she loved him, and actually admitted so not only to herself but also to him.  She'd taken care of him, and he of her.  She'd brought him to stay in her home.

"You make me feel whole. I want to be with you, by your side, for the rest of my life..." he said.  "Will you marry me?"

Buffy sat stunned looking into Spike's pleading eyes.  She'd long ago given up on the dream of ever having a "normal" life with a husband who loved her.  Certainly, the thought of Spike ever being that man hadn't occurred to her --- Hello-o??  Vampire.  But here, now, on the back porch of her house where they'd spent so many nights talking, this striking (if not natural) blond man with penetrating azure eyes was asking her to be with him, to be his wife.

The night had already been such a dream to her:  candles, soft music, exchange of affectionate words, fulfilling lovemaking, falling asleep in the arms of the man she loved.  She'd woken up to discover, it wasn't a dream and that wasn't going to be the end of it.

He'd given her the ring before asking for her hand.  Now she was placing it back in his.  "Spike, I-" Buffy hesitated.  "I don't know what to say; this really is a surprise.  I never thought I'd live to see the day that someone would propose to me."

"And you never expected that someone to be me."  With a hint of disappointment showing through his eyes, he smiled.  Throwing up his hands, Spike leapt to his feet then continued, "Sod it.  S'all right, luv; no need t'explain.  Like I said, still want you t'ave the ring."

_Always thought it was funny how whenever he gets upset his accent gets thicker._  Buffy smiled and shook her head.  "No, no. Spike, listen to me.  I'm not saying 'no'. I'm just saying that I'm surprised."

Spike rolled his eyes up as if re-reading the line she'd just delivered on some overhead teleprompter.  "If you're not sayin' 'no'..."  He trailed off.

"I might just be saying 'yes'.  Yes Spike, I will marry you."  She leaned in to embrace him and he met her with all the joy in him spilling out in laughter and tears.  With her right arm still around him, Buffy eased back holding her left hand to him, fingers splayed.  

As Spike slipped the ring on her finger, they heard Dawn stomping down the hall to the kitchen. 

"Buffy?  Are you home?"

"Out here," she called in reply to her younger sister.  "Come outside."  She pulled away from Spike.

"Again!  Again she's backin' off," he muttered under his breath.  _I thought we were past this._  The sting of rejection pierced his heart; Buffy still didn't want anyone to know what was going on between them.

Or so Spike thought.

"What is it?" Dawn asked as she came to the door.  "Hey Spike."

"Nibblet."  

He was barely able to get the greeting out when Buffy launched into the conversation.  "Dawn, it's so amazing.  Unbelievable, really.  Spike just asked me to marry him.  Can you believe it?"

Before he knew what was happening, he was caught in the middle of one of those "soggy group hugs" he used to mock.  Tonight was different.  He was happy to be crushed between the two women he loved:  the one who had just agreed to become his wife and the other whom he loved as his own sister.


	2. 1 Comfort

One:  COMFORT

When Buffy awoke, her room was aglow with the filtered rays of the morning sun streaming through the window blinds.  The warmth the sun lent to the room mimicked the warmth in her heart at the memory of the previous night.  Almost from the moment she'd arrived home from work until she finally fell asleep for the night, it was pure romance.  She almost had to pinch herself to believe that the evening had been real.  But next to her in her bed, was Spike and on the ring finger of her left hand (though a little loose) was the antique peridot ring that he'd given her.

_Engaged!_ squealed the voice inside her head.  Buffy rolled over to meet Spike's peaceful sleeping face and smiled at his mussed hair.  _Looks like somebody's overdue for some chemical treatment,_ she thought light-heartedly as she noticed his nut-brown roots beneath their platinum tips.  Then suddenly, _Note to self: make colour appointment with hairdresser,_ realizing it had been a while since she'd had the tint of her own locks "enhanced".

Spike stirred.  "Mornin' Luv," he muttered clearly not yet awake.  "Sleep well?"  After spending more a century as a "night owl", he was still not what one could call a "morning person".

"Spike," Buffy whispered as she brushed his cheek tenderly with the back of her hand.  "You go ahead and sleep.  I've got to make a call before it gets too late.  Long distance charges and all..."  She kissed him sweetly before adding, "I'll check on you before I leave for work."  Then slipping carefully from the bed, she put on her robe.  Rapturous, Buffy beamed as she glanced back to her bed.  

From there a weary pair of sky-blue eyes hazily met her bright olive greens. 

Contented, Spike drifted back to sleep as Buffy closed the door behind her.

------- o -------

In the kitchen, Buffy poured herself some juice and popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. 

"Morning Buffy," Dawn chirped as she entered the kitchen.  "Pretty great night, huh?  If I didn't tell you enough times last night, I'm really happy for you... and Spike.  I've always thought he was great and I'm glad you finally realized it too.  You're going to make a great couple."

Buffy couldn't help but notice the number of times her sister had just used the word "great" and thought that it was lucky that she herself was in such a "great" mood or she might have had to smack a little enthusiasm out of the teen's system.  "Yeah," she said simply, smiling from ear-to-ear and with a bit of a dazed expression in her eyes.

As the toast popped up, Dawn grabbed both slices and slapped some peanut-butter between them before gulping down Buffy's juice and heading for the door.  "Going to school.  Have a great day."

When the door clicked shut, Buffy came out of her dreamlike state to discover her glass empty, toast gone and a crumb-covered knife sticking out of the jar of peanut-butter.  "Teenagers..."

------- o -------

After re-fixing her breakfast and doing a little mental calculation, Buffy figured it might be a good time to call Giles in England.  It would be late afternoon and he'd likely be pouring himself a cup of tea.  _OK, I know. It really doesn't matter what time I call, Giles will be pouring himself a cup of tea.  But still, he's probably ready for a break from being British and could use an update on good old Sunnydale._  She dialled the number and waited.

"Allo?" came his familiar voice over the line.

"Giles, I'm so glad I caught you.  It's Buffy."  She was relieved he was home.  This wasn't the sort of thing she wanted leave on his machine but if she'd left any sort of cryptic could-you-give-me-a-call-type message, he'd have been worried.

"Oh Buffy.  How lovely to hear from you," he said warmly.  "How are things?  Dawn?"

"Good Giles.  Dawn's doing well at school, though she seems to have forgotten how to make her own breakfast..." she grumbled.  "Everything else is really good." _Hey, don't get too excited here. Take it easy,_ she ordered herself not wanting Giles to get suspicious about her overly good mood. _I mean, gee, get too enthusiastic and he'll be convinced it's some kind of demon happy spell you're under._

"Wonderful."

Following a few more minutes of pleasantries (How's the weather? Your new job? And such), Buffy decided she had to get to the real reasons she called.  She wanted to check on Willow, see if she'd be up to a call from her Sunnydale friends and she wanted to share her news about Spike.  _Hmm...__  Which part will be easier for me to deal?_  "Have you seen Willow?  It's just we haven't heard from her in a while."

There was a pause.  _Pouring tea or cleaning his glasses?_  Buffy wasn't sure which.

"Actually Buffy, I've just come from seeing her," replied Giles solemnly.  "While she is doing much better, I'm afraid she may still have a long road ahead."

"Oh." Disappointed and not really sure what else to say on the subject, Buffy took a chance and change it. "Yeah... ah... Giles?" her words came out weakly.

"Yes Buffy, what is it?" her dear friend asked with a distinct note of concern that carried halfway round the globe.

"Spike's back," she said bluntly.  Buffy couldn't be sure how this would go; Giles had never been what one would call "thrilled" with Spike's presence, but when he was back for the spring apocalypse and Buffy told him she'd been sleeping with the vampire (along with all the other messes the Scoobies had made of their lives), Giles laughed --- rather hysterically, for Giles at least, if she recalled correctly.  She never did really get a straight impression from him on the subject because they'd been interrupted.

"Oh I see," he acknowledged.

_Now he's taking off his glasses._  "Have you ever thought of contact lenses?" mumbled Buffy.__

"I'm sorry, Buffy. What was that?" Giles queried.

"Nothing.  About Spike..." she continued, "he's... ah... changed."

"And?"

"Well, you know we were... ah... seeing each other for a while."  _No, really Giles. Contacts. Look into them._

"Yes dear. You'd-"  He cleared his throat.  "-mentioned that when I was over last spring."

"Yeah and... we had a fight and he left."

"And now he's come back, and he's different," Giles replied, giving Buffy the impression he wanted her to get to the point.  "Are you saying he doesn't care for you anymore?"

"Oh no.  He still loves me."  She paused briefly to admire her ring and reflect on the previous evening.  "But Giles, the most amazing thing has happened.  Well... things actually."  With that, Buffy proceeded to Giles about Spike's journey to Africa and his recent return as a soul-full human being.  "And the thing is... he really doesn't seem all that different.  I mean, sure, he's not threatening to eat anyone and that a good.  And he's got more colour in his cheeks and that's a really good," Buffy exclaimed enthusiastically. "And he's all warm and-"

"Buffy..."

_Oh, right. Giles really doesn't want to hear how hot I think Spike is._  "I mean, his personality hasn't changed much.  Somehow he's managed to keep his sense of humour and that," she remarked.  "It's just so different from with Angel. I mean, there was such an extreme difference between Angel and Angelus.  It was downright scary.  But Spike seems pretty much like... Spike."

"Well, Buffy. Perhaps it's because of his years with the chip in his head; kept the demon in check," Giles suggested. "Or p'rhaps it was you, Buffy."

Her heart jumped.  How strange it seemed to her to have Giles say such a thing.

"You're a very special young woman, and Spike," the former Watcher paused searching for the right words, "has never been like any other vampire of which I've heard.  He's always been fiercely loyal to those he loved.  He certainly proved that to me during the crisis with Glory, and after."  His voice trailed off, leaving hanging the thought of having lost Buffy to the dimensional gateway.

"Oh, and Giles?  That's not all."  Buffy decided to take another chance; Giles was sounding about as pro-Spike as anyone besides Dawn ever had so, _Here goes._  "Last night... Well, last night he... he asked me to marry him."

"Oh Buffy.  I take it you've accept his proposal, then?" Giles asked inquisitively.

"Well, yeah. I did.  I love him, Giles.  I do."  The words came out as if she were asking his permission to love this vampire-come-human; needing his approval of her choice.

"That's splendid news," he said wholeheartedly.

"Giles?"  Beat.  "Rupert Giles?"  Another beat.  "Tea; tweed; used to be librarian at Sunnydale High School?"

He chuckled a little.  "Yes, Buffy.  What of it?  Are you surprised that I'm happy for you?"

"Well, I -" she hesitated then reconsidered what he'd just said.  "You're happy for me?"

"Of course, Buffy.  If you could hear the joy in your own voice at telling me your news, you'd know why I'm happy.  You've carried the burden of your Calling for so many years now.  I know, p'rhaps better than anyone else how it's interfered with your life.  But now you've been given a chance, a chance for some kind of normalcy... happiness," he explained.  "Spike knows what you are, accepts you for it completely.  He loves you.  I'm happy for you because you deserve some happiness in your life.  If Spike can give that to you, I'll be more than pleased for you both."

Buffy was starting to cry.  She was so relieved that possibly her dearest-friend-in-the-world --- the man who for years had been more of a father to her than her own had ever been --- sounded genuinely pleased that she'd found love with the former vampire.  "Thanks for listening Giles.  It's been great talking to you.  And Giles?"

"Yes dear?"

"I know it's probably a bit early for this, but..."  Nervous, she paused.  ".would you give me away at the wedding?  I know my father's still alive, but it would mean so much more to have you there by my side."  There, for the second time in their lives, Buffy had asked Giles to walk her down the aisle at her wedding to Spike.  This time, however was not the result of a magic spell gone wrong; this was the real thing.

"I'd be honoured."  And this time Giles didn't have to hesitate, didn't feel the need to drink himself silly to blot out the image of Buffy in Spike's arms.  He knew Spike loved his Slayer, and was confident that he'd do everything he could to ensure her happiness.

"Thanks Giles.  That means so much to me."

"Do take care of yourself, Buffy."

"I will, Giles.  You too.  Bye."


	3. 2 Honour

Two:  HONOUR

As he lay in bed, Spike was determined that today he would make another change.  _Can't sit around waitin' for Buffy to come home.__  Got no excuse anymore not goin' out during the day.  Should get some exercise._  He decided he'd swing by Buffy's gym later and catch a class; bloody unlikely he'd participate, but he'd love to watch her work.

First, though he figured he'd best see about finding some gainful employment.  Although Buffy's job at the gym obviously paid better than the Double Meat Palace had, Spike wasn't going to sponge off her any longer than necessary and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get away with falling back into old habits (namely stealing and cheating).

"Right then. On with ya."  He dragged himself out of the safety (and seductive scent) of the bed of the woman he loved, determined he'd make something of himself. not just for her, but for them.

------- o -------

Buffy had a fantastic day.  Several of her aerobics class regulars had commented how well she was looking.  She emitted an euphoria and exuberance they'd never seen in her before. 

"Something's different about you, girl," commented one woman.

And another added keenly, "Yeah, and whatever it is, I wanna know where to get some!"

She felt like a "normal" girl when she explained that her "old boyfriend" had come back into her life and that they were going to get married.  It had been such a long time since she'd sat down and "dished" with the girls about boys, and having Spike's ring to flash around made it all the more fun.  "It's a family heirloom," she'd tell people.  _I can't very well say it was his mom's, can I?  Or can I?_  "We haven't really made any definite plans yet," she'd say when people would ask about the date, "It's all so new, you know." But she loved to imagine what the 'big event' might be like.

------- o -------

By late afternoon, Spike had secured a job at a new English-style Pub.  The pay wasn't great, but then Spike didn't exactly have a glowing résumé to hand out to prospective employers.  Besides, he reckoned that this job suited him as well as he could have hoped.  The "Fox and Hound" catered mainly to the business crowd, so Spike would tend bar from late morning until early evening most Mondays through Wednesdays, until late evening on Thursdays and Fridays.  With alternate weekends off, the promise of tips from a passably well-to-do clientele, meals and access on his breaks to the billiard room, what more could he ask?  (_A flowering onion-thing, perhaps._  He'd work on that.)

Reggie, the Pub's stout middle-aged owner, was happy to give a job to this svelte "young" fellow Englishman. He figured a nice looking lad like "Wills" would draw in the ladies and that would keep the gents around.  And a steady stream of customers was simply good business.

Though Reggie seemed an easy going bloke, Spike hoped the man didn't try to pry too much out of him as regards the mother country, given he'd not spent much time there in decades.  He told Reggie that he'd emigrated years ago with his family, which was true, since he hadn't actually said how many years ago, or that the family to which he referred were all vampires.

The two sat reminiscing about jolly old England.  Spike chuckled a little when Reggie mentioned having been over for some of the Queen's Golden Jubilee celebrations.  Spike had been in England during the festivities --- though in his case they were in honour of the current Queen, Elizabeth II, but rather for her great-great grandmother Queen Victoria.  "Yep, 'lot's changed since I lived in England," Spike declared almost sadly to his new boss as they continued their chat over a couple of pints.  _Ha!  A hell of a lot since I *lived*" in __England__._  He sighed as he made the mental distinction.  "Ah, but one thing's not changed, eh?" he added, lightening his demeanour and holding up his glass, "We still know a damn sight more than the Yanks about beer!"

------- o -------

Buffy was just finishing up with her "Mid-week Mix-up" Circuit-Training Group when Spike walked into the gym.  He was dressed to work out in a muscle shirt and sweats.  At the sight of him, she was struck with pleasure (both in a prideful and erotic sense):  he looked hot; this was the man she loved, the one she'd marry.  She knew he was there more to be close to her, to take an interest in her life than to pump iron; and he looked hot.  _Oh yeah.  Counted that one already, but hey... he's a hottie._  She couldn't hide her smirk when she saw several of the women (and a couple of the men) in the group ogling his well-defined form.  _See.  They agree!_

"Come on, people!  Focus," she barked as much to herself as to the group.  "Just two more minutes, then we'll cool it down. Let's go," she urged before assembling the group for some stretching.

When the class was done, the oglers resumed their inspection of the mysterious and fair skinned hunk that had arrived earlier; his muscles now glistened with the slightest film of perspiration.  

Amused by their attentions, Buffy made a point of going over, throwing her arms around him and planting a big sloppy kiss.  _No sense wasting an opportunity to show them all this is my man!_

------- o -------

They walked home together, hand-in-hand (stakes in the other, ready for any demon that might decide to spoil their beautiful evening).  Spike enjoyed a sense of personal satisfaction announcing to Buffy that he had a new (legitimate, even respectable) job.  In turn, she delighted in telling him about all the jealous clients at her gym.  Both felt gratified, reflecting on the events of the day, particularly how fulfilled they each were by Buffy's public display of affection for Spike.  Buffy had never before been one to flaunt her feelings for him --- not her warm fuzzy ones anyway.  But that one simple gesture --- "marking her territory" as it were --- had liberated Buffy, while at the same time it assured Spike of her love for him and affirmed his sense of belonging.  He was home... and he was loved.

------- o -------

Later that week, Xander stopped by the house with big news:  Willow was coming home.

"When did you hear?" inquired Buffy. "Did she call you?" 

"No... actually I called her," Xander replied sheepishly.  "Finally got up the courage and got lucky:  she was on a break."

"Sounds like we're both getting lucky these days," Buffy exclaimed cheerfully.  "That didn't come out quite right."  Her complexion reddened.  "I mean... I called Giles the other morning and we got to talk too."

"Oh great.  How is the G-man?" Xander asked.

"Good.  He sounded good.  Happy."  She smiled remembering Giles' tone at the announcement she was going to marry Spike.  Thinking about it even then, Buffy was astonished that Giles not only accepted her plans but actually sounded genuinely pleased for her.

"Buff-?  Hello-o?"  Xander waved his hand in front of her face.

Shaking herself back to the present, Buffy apologized, "Sorry Xander.  I guess my mind was somewhere else."

"Please tell me that's in a mind-on-other-things sense rather than an actually somewhere else way," he said hopefully, making reference to the time earlier that year when Buffy had been having flashes to some alternate life in a mental institution.

She laughed then assured her friend, "Oh-no.  Nothing like that.  Just thinking about Giles...  So anyway, what about Willow?"

Their conversation continued, talking about their concerns for Willow once she got back.  Outwardly, neither of them really knew what to expect, but both wanted to be as supportive and helpful as possible because that's what friends do.  Inside though, both were afraid their friendship with Willow might be irreparably damaged.  Buffy had, in a sense, been where Willow was:  coming back after a long absence to a world in which she wasn't sure she fit anymore.  Xander was apprehensive that Willow might distance herself from them the way that Buffy had.  He simply wasn't sure he could bear that kind of rejection again, especially not from the girl who'd been his best friend for virtually his entire life.

Spike and Dawn arrived a little later:  Spike from work, Dawn from studying with a friend.

"Hey Buffy, Xander."

"Dawnster," Xander replied heartily, relieved that the teen's arrival meant the end of the heavy Willow talk.  Then acknowledged, "Spike."  He still wasn't entirely comfortable with the former vampire spending so much time with the two young Summers women, but Xander no longer feared for their safety around Spike.  He had come to accept that Spike sincerely cared for the two and it even gave him peace of mind knowing there was a "man in the house" to look out for them --- not that Buffy really needed looking after, but still...  Besides, Buffy had told him that with Willow away, Spike was staying in her room --- which when she said it was true --- since he really had nowhere else to go.  Of course, with Willow coming back...  Xander preferred not to consider new arrangements.

"Hey Xander.  Did Buffy tell you the great news?" asked Dawn excitedly.

A questioning look crossed Xander's face, but before he could say anything --- and before Dawn could "spill the beans" --- Buffy interrupted.

"Actually Dawn, I was... ah... waiting for the two of you. Let's go sit down in the living room," she suggested, "and I'll tell you all about it, Xander."

Xander settled into the upholstered chair beside the fireplace as Buffy and Spike seated themselves... rather close together on the couch.  Dawn just kept hovering around, obviously unable to control her enthusiasm about the incredible news.

"Xander." Buffy began.  She took a deep breath then let it out.  _How do I start this?  I mean, I should tell him.  He should know.  Spike would love for me to tell my friends.  Hey, the guy was thrilled I told a bunch of sweaty strangers...  Just do it.  Now!_  She took another breath and proceeded.  "Well, you know that Spike has been staying here."  She paused while Xander nodded.  "And you know that before he went away, Spike and I were... ah..."

A sick look came over Xander's face at the reference to the early part of the year.  It wasn't enough that in the course of a few days he'd learned that his former fiancée and one of his best friends had had sex with the soulless-undead-thing, but then he discovered that said soulless-undead-thing had tried to rape the afore-mentioned-best-friend.  "Yeah.  Yeah, Buffy," he mumbled quietly.  "And?" he coaxed.

"Well, when he left... I missed him and... I realized how much needed him... and then he came back... and things have been going so well...  Xander, I love him, and... well, Spike asked me to marry him and I said 'yes'."  She couldn't help but wonder if rambling on then blurting out the "punch-line" was how she was going to tell everyone that really needed to know.

Xander appeared unsure what to say. That certainly wasn't the kind of news he was expecting --- and probably wasn't really something he wanted to hear --- but out of respect for his friend, he managed a strained smile.  "Congratulations," he said as he got up from the chair and went to hug Buffy.  Turning to Spike, he put out a hand and added with complete sincerity in his voice, "You're a lucky man."

"Don't I know it," Spike replied proudly giving Xander's hand a firm shake.


	4. 3 Protect

Three:  PROTECT

Willow was coming home. 

Earlier in the week, she'd called to say that she was finally ready to leave England and make her way back to Sunnydale.  She had asked Buffy to meet her at the airport.  Buffy had filled her in a bit on Spike:  his coming back and being human, but chose not to tell Willow the news of their engagement or of his living at the house.  Although Giles and Xander had taken the news well enough, Buffy wanted to wait with Willow; she didn't want her friend to feel like she'd been pushed out of her home --- she had enough with which to deal.

Buffy moved Spike's things into her own room --- which seemed only practical, she convinced herself, considering he'd spent most of his nights there anyway.  It wasn't much of a chore, really.  Although now a working man bringing home a reasonable wage, Spike still didn't have many clothes --- and still wasn't big on colour.  (Both points which, at that time, Buffy thought she should rectify.)  She collected the few books piled on the nightstand in the master bedroom which Spike read when he couldn't get back to sleep but didn't want to wake her.  On those nights, he'd slip out of Buffy's room quietly and read until he dozed off on Willow's bed.

And there was the lock box.  Buffy hadn't actually seen it since the afternoon he'd snuck it home under his arm shortly after his return to Sunnydale.  She knew that was where he'd kept his mother's ring before giving it to her.  Though her curiosity as to what else might be in that box was strong, to her credit, Buffy never opened it not even for a peak.  _Trust is a two-way street,_ she noted as she held the box before tucking it under his side of her bed and making a mental note to tell him where it was so that he could move it if he felt the need. 

The night prior to Willow's much-anticipated arrival, Buffy made a point of freshening up her friend's bedroom giving it a thorough dusting and putting crisp clean sheets on the bed.  Finally, before leaving for the airport, she set a small bouquet of flowers on the nightstand. 

------- o -------

Buffy had cancelled her afternoon client sessions, and found a replacement instructor for her aerobics class so that she could leave work early to meet her friend.  She was thrilled to finally be able to welcome Willow home.

As she waited at the airport, Buffy imagined what it might be like to have Willow back.  They'd been so close once... in high school.  Willow was completely unlike the stylish, shallow friends Buffy had had at her schools in L.A., but something about the shy bookish red-head with the love of learning told Buffy that they were meant to be close.  And they were... back then. 

_What had happened to us, Will?  What happened to our friendship?_  Maybe it was as Giles had said, that the burden of her Calling had "interfered".  Maybe it was the strain of coming back from the grave, with Willow being the one most responsible for her return.  Maybe it was simply the natural progression of life... getting older... changing interests. growing apart.  The reason didn't really matter; Buffy just hoped they could be close again.

When Willow came out of the passenger gate, she wasn't at all like Buffy remembered.  She looked 'shell-shocked'; tired and frail.  Her hair was a dull red.  Her skin was ashen, practically transparent with dark circles under her almost-vacant green eyes.  And she was deathly thin.  Clearly the past months and the magicks had taken their toll on her poor friend.  Buffy committed to taking things slowly --- remembering how difficult her own return to Sunnydale had been little more than a year earlier.  _Hard to believe it was just last year._

"Hey Will," she welcomed, smiling affectionately, open arms offering a much-needed hug. 

Setting down her carry-on bag and approaching the awaiting arms, Willow appeared relieved that her trip was almost over and happy to see a friendly face.  She seemed comforted in the forgiving embrace of her dear friend.  Perhaps their friendship could give Willow the strength to get through the strain of her return.

------- o -------

The two young women drove back to the Summers' house on Revello Drive with few words between them.  Buffy realized that her friend was exhausted from her trip (or from her life over the past several months, Buffy couldn't discern which).  She empathized with Willow and the challenging weeks she'd have ahead reacclimatizing herself in Sunnydale.

"Mind if I put on some music?" asked Buffy.  She put some quiet tunes on the radio in the hopes of putting Willow at ease and alleviating the pressure of the uncomfortable silence.  

Willow smiled thankfully and shut her eyes. 

------- o -------

As they pulled into the driveway, Willow's eyes popped open and she seemed to become agitated.  She hadn't actually been back to the house since she'd left Tara's body to seek out evil murderous Warren, not even to pack a bag for England. 

Tara and Willow had lived beyond that front door.  Loved there.  Laughed.  Cried. Argued.  Would that she could go back there?  Home.  But that warm wonderful world was gone, lost forever to a stray bullet.  This was the place where her beautiful gentle 'Baby' bled out in her arms, literally shot down in the prime of her life... just when they'd reconciled.  Tara; if only they'd stayed in bed. 

But soon, Willow was crossing the threshold and standing in the foyer.

All was quiet when they entered the house.  Spike was at work and Dawn at school.  Buffy was glad for the peace because Willow would have been overwhelmed had there been a lot of people around when she arrived.  Later, they could celebrate her return, but for now Buffy wanted Willow to be comfortable.

"Would you like a drink?  Something to eat maybe?"

Willow gave a meek smile and shook her head.  "No thanks, Buffy.  I'm fine."

"Do you want to lie down?  I mean, it was such a long trip; you must be tired," Buffy noted.  "Why don't I take your bags up to your room.  Then you can settle in a bit, have a nap while I get dinner ready.  I know, kinda scary, me cooking, but..." Buffy joked, brightening Willow's smile slightly.  Carrying Willow's bags, Buffy started up the stairs.  "Dawn'll be home soon.  She's really anxious to see you, so maybe you should get some rest while you still can."

When they reached the master bedroom, Buffy set the bags down.  Watching Willow studying the room, Buffy wondered what Dawn must have seen in her face the night she'd returned from the grave and toured that same room.  She remembered thinking the room that had been her mother's was so different:  her mother's things gone and Willow and Tara's in their place.  It was important to Buffy that the room be as close to the way Willow had left it as possible --- except for the carpet, which had been replaced because of the ghastly bloodstain left behind by Tara's tragic death.

Suddenly, Willow turned and bolted; Buffy followed her to where she'd stopped on the stairs.

"Buffy... I can't stay in that room," sobbed Willow.  "I just can't. Oh God, Tara... It's too hard."

Buffy couldn't deny that she'd thought of taking over the master bedroom before, but she didn't want to force Willow out.  The fact that Willow didn't want the room made things so much easier.  "Will, you're welcome to have my room if you want.  We'd love for you to stay with us," she urged.  "I can take your room.  It won't be any trouble at all.  We can even splurge a little and redecorate!"

"If you're sure," Willow said shyly.  "I don't want to be any trouble.  Besides, I've been thinking... maybe... I should get my own place."

"Well, why don't you stay with us for now, while you look for somewhere new.  Swapping rooms will be no trouble at all, in fact, it will be a lot easier for me and Spike-"  Buffy stopped abruptly and bit her lip.  _Oops.  I didn't mean for it to come out that way._

"You and Spike?" Willow asked, dazed and confused.

"Well, yeah.  Come here, let's sit down."  Buffy led her pale friend to her bed.  "Will. I guess I should just come out and say it.  Spike's living here now.  He's been here since he came back from Africa.  At first he stayed in your. ah. the master bedroom, but now... we've gotten close and... I hope you can be happy for us.  We plan to get married."  She held her left hand up beside her face and waggled the ring.

"Buffy..."

She wasn't sure what to make of Willow's knitted brow as the young woman began to speak. 

"That's remarkable news."  The statement was more matter-of-fact than with any discernable emotion, leaving Buffy baffled as to the redhead's impressions.  Noticing the ring, Willow commented, "That's a very unusual ring."

Proudly Buffy explained, "It was Spike's mother's."

"Wow.Spike's mother's."  Her tone was odd as if the thought had never occurred that Spike had a mother.  "Ah... What kind of stones are those?" she inquired.

"Ah, per... peri... um..."  Buffy tried to remember.

"Peridot?"

"Yeah, that's what Spike called them.  Why?"

"Oh, nothing really.  Just wondered."  Then she remarked, "They're very... special.  I know it's probably just a coincidence but peridot has some mystical properties...  Protection mainly:  against evil, night terrors, that sort of thing."

"Really?  Cool," said Buffy enthusiastically.  "As the Slayer living on the Hellmouth, I can use all the help I can get!" she joked, actually making her friend chuckle.  Softly Buffy added, "It's nice to see you smile again Will.  I'm so glad you're home."  She gave her friend a big hug.

"Well..." Buffy began as she stood up, "give me a couple of minutes.  I'll just go grab some clean sheets and stuff."

"Buffy, there's no need really.  This is fine."

"No, Will.  Believe me when I say, you need clean sheets," Buffy said insistently as she went out to the linen closet in the hall. 

Willow's pale face blushed when she realized what her friend was telling her.

Soon, the two young women had the bed stripped and were remaking it, chatting happily about what they could do to their "new" rooms.  They were both relieved to have an entirely new (and decidedly 'un-pressurey') subject to talk about.  Each saw the move as a healthy change that would give them a fresh start to their "new lives".


	5. 4 Forsaking All Others

Four:  FORSAKING ALL OTHERS

Willow was spending the evening with her parents.  It had been a long time since she'd seen them (not that they'd noticed she was gone) and an even longer time since she'd worried what her father would think if he found his "only daughter nailing crucifixes to her bedroom wall".  It was ironic to consider that back in high school when Willow was only dabbling with magic, her mother had joined with a group of irate parents to burn her at the stake as a witch.  Her parents hadn't even the slightest clue how out of control Willow had become in the past year; how hungry for power; how her innocent high school curiosity of floating pencils and hiding pimples with glamours had escalated to almost literally Earth-shattering levels.  Their little girl had almost destroyed the whole world and Ira and Sheila Rosenberg hadn't even realized she wasn't still in school.

Perhaps their oblivion would make the visit easier.  Willow wouldn't have to hide her guilt and shame from them because they didn't know what she had done.  She could pretend, as they always did, that everything was fine and normal, and with the holidays upon them, that latkes really were better with applesauce than sour cream.

------- o -------

_If __Willow__ can face the skeletons in her closet, so can I,_ Buffy decided metaphorically speaking. 

After work and dinner, she asked Spike to take Dawn to a movie or something.  Buffy explained that she needed to phone 'someone' and felt more comfortable making the call in the house alone. 

Spike suspected he knew whom Buffy intended to call and agreed to do as she asked.  _Couldn't you wait for me to drive to __Los Angeles__ so I can watch his face while you give the Brooding Poof our happy news?_ Spike chuckled to himself.  Though now human, at least one thing about Spike hadn't changed:  he still harboured animosity toward Angel.  Likely that would never change, and why should it?  Having a soul doesn't mean you stop feeling envy, pride, lust for vengeance, even hate.  The notion of seeing Angel hurt the way he'd been hurt because of Angel, gave Spike a real sense of justice.  Angel had taken Drusilla from him so many times before.  This time he'd get his rocks back because he would be marrying the love not only of his life, but also of Angel's.

Buffy was anxious about this call; more than anyone else, she dreaded telling Angel.  But she'd waited long enough, he should hear the news... from her.  She knew it would neither be easy for her to say nor for him to hear.  This wasn't a simple case of a girl telling her ex- that she'd found someone else.  Heck, Buffy had done that before with Angel when she was seeing Riley.  She'd even done that with Riley when he found her sleeping with Spike.

(Thinking of Riley, she decided she'd e-mail him her news. Given that he already knew she'd been "seeing" Spike --- and the fact that he'd seen way more of Spike than he'd have liked --- Buffy figured the hard part with her soldier boy had passed.  E-mail would have to do the rest since she really had no idea where he was but thought he should know about Spike --- particularly the being human thing, so that if Riley ever came back to Sunnydale he wouldn't try to beat the living daylights out of Spike or worse try to stake him.  After all, stakes through the heart aren't only fatal to vampires.  Used on a human, it's just a whole lot messier to clean up.)

Telling Angel was so not simple.  No.  There was more to it: a lot more... history.  Not just between her and Angel, but perhaps more significantly between Angel and Spike.  Theirs was a long and turbulent relationship.  And now Buffy was going to tell the man (all-be-he vampire) who had once pledged his heart (though unbeating) that she was going to marry someone else:  a man whom he had grown to despise long before Buffy was even born.

_Angel, that__ was all so long ago..._ she thought of the night he'd given her the Claddagh ring.  Her birthday... seventeen.  They made love that night, after fleeing with their lives from Drusilla's party for the Judge. Sweet.  Sensual.  Her first time.  That night marked the beginning of the end for them.  Sure, Angel was a vampire and they could never have a "normal" life together, but they were in love, so what did they care? Then the curse was lifted; the gypsy curse that gave Angel a soul; the curse that, when lifted brought back Angelus, who with his cruel words and terrifying actions destroyed some (perhaps not so) little part of Buffy.  A part that took Spike to restore:  a trust in romantic love.

How ironic that the evil being that before that night --- that wonderful and terrible night when everything went so wrong --- she'd sworn to kill, would become her ally... her confidant... her lover... her friend and now the man she'd marry.  _Angel's not going to see the humour in that is he?_ She sighed and shook her head.

Pulling out her address book, Buffy looked up Angel's number.  With all the courage she could muster, she dialled. slowly. 

"Angel Investigations.  We help the helpless," a woman's voice answered.

Buffy was a little surprised.  "Cordelia?"

"Speaking."

"It's Buffy.  Is Angel around?"

"Sure Buffy," she almost groaned.  "He's here.  Can I tell him why you're calling?"

"Well, it's kinda personal."

"Yeah, always is with you two," said Cordelia with her signature sarcasm.  "Just a minute."

Buffy held her free hand to her forehead as her eyes bugged out.  The pressure building made her feel that her head might explode while she waited.  Things hadn't been the same between her and Angel in a long time.  Their more recent meetings hadn't exactly been what one could call "smooth". They'd grown apart, but Angel was still a very special part of her past and she hoped he could be supportive --- or at least accepting.  But this call would not improve their relationship, and though she feared hurting him, Buffy thought Angel should know_.  It's like a Band-Aid, Buffy.  Just pull it off fast.  It'll only sting for a minute, _she tried to convince herself as she continued to wait.

"Buffy?" Angel's deep voice resonated.

"Hi Angel.  How are you?" she inquired lightly.

"Fine.  You?"  He seemed distant, puzzled.

_Vague much?_  "I'm OK... ah..."

"What is it Buffy?" he asked.  "Cordelia said you had something 'personal' to discuss."

_Gee... since when did you become 'get-to-the-point-guy'?_ Buffy wondered.  "Well, yeah, I. I mean.  You remember when I called you last spring about Spike?"  In her desperation to find Spike earlier that year, she'd called Angel on the off-chance he'd heard anything from or about his grand-childe.

"Has he turned up?  Is he causing problems again?" Angel sounded annoyed.

_Yeah, this is going well,_ she thought as she rolled her eyes.  _Why couldn't I have just told Angel the truth in the first place?  That sure would have made this a whole lot easier.  Well, duh.  If I couldn't tell my friends here, how the hell could I tell Angel?!_  "Well, not exactly. I mean, he did turn up... a while ago actually. And ah..." she stammered, 'as for problems... we are talking about Spike here, so I think that goes without saying."

"Buffy, what is it?!"

_I guess if I'm honest, this problem I brought on myself._  She swallowed the lump building in her throat.  "Well, I probably should've told you before that Spike and I were... sort of seeing each other before he went away."  She allowed a pause for any comment Angel might have.

Silence.

"I guess you could say, that's kind of why he went away. because I broke it off and... some other stuff happened."  She sighed.  "Then he left."

Still nothing from Angel. 

"But he came back and... ah... it's really kind of amazing," she remarked.  "Um... And he's... He's changed."

Frustrated, Angel finally interjected sharply, "Buffy, I really don't see what this has to do with me."

"Well..." Buffy took a deep breath.  "He-asked-me-to-marry-him-and-I-said-yes," she blurted as if it was one long word.

Her words were barely out of her mouth when Angel shot back, "What?!  Buffy are you crazy?!?"

_Here we go..._ thought Buffy clasping a hand over her eyes.

"You can't marry Spike!  He's a vampire! He must have you in a thrall or something?" Angel ranted.  "What are you thinking?  Obviously you aren't thinking.  Marrying Spike?!  What kind of life would that be for you?"

Buffy jumped in, "But Angel, that's just it:  Spike isn't a vampire.  Not anymore." She waited for all kinds of "how", "why", "who" and "what the-" questions.

But they never came.  Unbeknownst to Buffy, Angel knew of the possibility of re-humanization.  He'd been there himself, enjoyed that one incredible day with Buffy, making love and eating cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip ice-cream.  But for some fool reason --- he'd tried to convince himself he'd be better able to protect her as a vampire than he could with the reduced strength and abilities of a human man --- Angel had chosen to go to the Powers-that-Be be returned to his souled-demon state. 

Baffled by the silence, Buffy spoke.  "Angel?  Are you still there?"

"Yeah.  Sorry Buffy."  He paused again.  "I don't know what to say.  That is pretty amazing:  Spike being human."  He exhaled quickly, before taking another deep breath.  "But Buffy, even so.  I honestly can't say that I'm happy for you.  Maybe I'm just jealous.  But Spike?  I mean really Buffy:  Spike?!"

"I didn't think you'd be happy," she muttered with disappointment.  "But I thought you should know...  I hope you...  Well, are you alright?"

"Sure," he said in a "really not" kind of way.  "I just hope you'll be.  Be careful, Buffy."  There was a moment of silence before Angel spoke again, "I've gotta go... ah... back to work."

"Yeah, I should get a shower.  Bye." 

He hung up quickly, leaving Buffy with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.  She knew things with Angel were long over, but it didn't stop her from feeling sadness and regret.  Taking a deep breath, she headed upstairs to shower and clear her head.

------- o -------

Spike and Dawn agreed to just take a walk.  Neither had any interest in seeing a movie and they figured they could do a little patrolling for Buffy to free up some time for her to spend with them once they got back.  Stakes in hand, they headed for the cemetery to catch any rising fledglings.  Not exactly sporting, but if dusting some newbies meant more time with Buffy, they were both content to stake anything that might pop up.

All was quiet as they moved through the headstones. Approaching the crypt that had been Spike's home, they could see a faint glow inside. 

Turning to Dawn, Spike instructed, "Right then, Nibblet.  Stick close.  We'll 'ave a look.  No heroics, now.  We're just looking." 

"Fine," replied Dawn, only half meaning it.

They'd only taken a few steps when suddenly the door flew open and in the moonlight they could see a familiar dark figure standing in the entrance.

"Well, well... What 'ave we 'ere.  My poor Spyke.  Heard you'd got yourself human again.  Little fairies told me."  The woman's long pale fingers danced as she spoke. "Terrible shame that:  undoing all my lovely work.  Now come 'ere, pet.  I'll make it all better again."

"Dru..." Spike began with a stern and cautionary tone, stake at the ready.  "I warn you:  I'll kill you if you come any closer." 

Fretfully, Dawn stood right beside him.  Normally, a close encounter with a vamp wouldn't have brought on such fear, but Dawn knew Drusilla was a "nut-sack", capable of just about anything.

"Yes, I knew you'd come back 'ere. Back to 'er.  The Slayer," Drusilla hissed.  "Isn't enough that she's got you fallin' ove' yourself for 'er.  She's got you playin' nanny and doin' 'er dirty work too, now 'as she?"  She circled the pair, arms floating madly on air. "When'll you eva learn.  Giv'er up.  Come on, my Spyke," she cooed seductively, "I want us to be family again."

"Dru, you know that didn't work the last time..." Spike reminded.

"Course not... because of the Slayer."  She looked as though she was about to continue when suddenly she dropped to the ground and started to shriek.  "Oh No!  No!"

"What is it, pet?  What do you see?" Spike asked her, as he always had when they were together and she'd get her visions.

She lashed out and shot him a wicked glance, "You know.  You've given your 'eart to 'er..."  Then Drusilla returned to shrieking.

"Yes Dru, it's true.  I love the Slayer and she loves me.  I suggest that unless you want to be dust in the wind, you'd best be on your way back to wherever you've come from.  Come on, Bit.  Let's get home," Spike ordered, pushing Dawn in front of him as they left Drusilla.

Her voice full of worry, Dawn asked, "Shouldn't we go back and dust her first?"

"Dawn.  Let's just go.  Now!" Spike was forceful.

"They want it back!" Drusilla called after the pair.  As she looked up to watch them go, the vamp sneered, "This isn't over.  First my Angelus, now my Spyke.  I'll have my revenge, Slayer.  They'll take 'im from you, just as you've taken my boys from me."


	6. 5 Be Faithful

Five:  BE FAITHFUL

Downhearted after her call to Angel --- which a shower and change into yet another stylish but affordable outfit, did nothing to alleviate --- Buffy was on her way out to patrol when Spike and Dawn arrived home.

"No need for you to go out, luv," said Spike, giving his petite fiancée a gentle kiss on the forehead as he took off his coat.  "Dawn and I gave the cemet'ry a good once over."

"But Spike-" Dawn began.

Abruptly, he cut her off, "Not much out there tonight."

Dawn was startled; Spike was lying --- lying to Buffy.  Dawn shot him a vexed glare which apparently he ignored.

Spike sauntered casually down the hall to the kitchen.  "Why don't I make some popcorn and we can all have a quiet night in?" he called back.

Dawn looked at her sister with a distressed face then appealed in a hushed tone, "Buffy, can I talk to you upstairs a minute?"

"Sure," Buffy answered as curiosity knitted her brows in response to her sister's expression.

------- o -------

"Buffy," Dawn started solemnly after closing her bedroom door.  "It's about the patrolling.  Spike and I were out in the cemetery just now and... well, Drusilla was there."

"Drusilla?" gasped Buffy.  "What happened?"

"She was going all spacey, screamin' and stuff.  Acting all creepy, you know, like she does."  The teen mimicked Drusilla's typical movements as she spoke.  "Spike told her that he loves you and that she should just leave him alone.  Then she went all freaky, rolling around on the ground and stuff. Spike just insisted we go."

"He didn't stake her?" inquired the Slayer.

"No.  That's why I thought I should tell you about it."  The urgency and concern was evident in Dawn's tone.  "I mean, she looked pretty pissed... not to mention the usual craziness."

"Don't worry, Dawn," Buffy soothed.  "If she turns up again, I'll take care of her."  _And as for you, Spike. We're going to have a little talk._

------- o -------

By the time the girls went back downstairs, Spike was lounging on the couch, beer in hand, with the popcorn and drinks for them on the coffee table.

Dawn sat down on the opposite end of the couch, nervous yet interested in what her sister was about to do.  She just didn't want to be too close to the fall-out when Buffy exploded.

"I'm beat," said Buffy flatly.  "I'm just going to turn."

Dawn couldn't- no, didn't believe Spike was going to get off that easily.

Oblivious to the conversation that had just transpired upstairs and focused on the curves of his beautiful bride-to-be, Spike got a devilish gleam in his eye as he watched her climb the stairs.  "Well."  He stretched his arms and faked a yawn.  "I'm pretty knackered myself.  Think I'll head up too."

"Oh please..." mumbled Dawn, shaking her head.  "I'm not that young and naive."  As Spike pushed himself up from the couch, she cautioned, "I wouldn't bother her now if I was you."

Spike disregarded her remark, said goodnight, and headed up the stairs. 

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she sang out after him.

------- o -------

Upstairs, Spike quickly but thoroughly brushed and flossed his teeth, checked his hair, and gave his underarms a quick sniff.  Judging himself ready for some snogging, he raised an eyebrow and smirked in the mirror before heading for the master bedroom.  On the closed door, he knocked softly. 

"Yes?" came a coy sing-songy voice from inside. 

_Sounds like an invitation to me,_ he thought gleefully as he opened the door.

Buffy sat on the chair of her vanity, facing the door, with an exasperated look on her face.  "Get in here, Spike!  And close the door," she ordered.

"Looks like the Slayer's a tad testy this evening," Spike teased. 

Her reply was swift and stern, if vague, "You could say that."

"What have I done now?" he asked, disheartened.

"I want to know what you thought you were doing with Drusilla tonight?!" Buffy demanded.  "Dawn told me you two ran into her at the cemetery and you let her go."

"Jealous?"  The word had barely left his lips and he'd regretted it.  Having a soul and a heartbeat hadn't done a darn thing when it came to keeping rein on his loose tongue and its smart-assed remarks. 

"Jealous?!"  She got up from her chair.  "Is that what you think?!  Is that what you want to hear, you idiot?!  For God's sake, Spike.  I really do wonder what goes on in your head sometimes!" she raved.  "Drusilla's dangerous.  Hello-o??  Vampire, remember?  Not to mention she's a lunatic!  You should have dusted her when you had the chance," she scolded.  "It's not everyday vamps drop at my feet and roll helplessly on the ground."  She waved her hands frantically around to emphasize her point as her rant continued. "She could have killed you!  And Dawn!  She still could, you idiot!  Obviously you've forgotten the mortality reality of the being human thing." 

She paused briefly to consider her words, _'Mortality reality'? Where did that come from?_

Buffy shook her head and growled as if to get back on track. "You should know as well as I do- no better," she corrected, "that vampires can tell you're not one of them anymore!  Just as soon as they catch the sweet smell of the hot blood running through your veins!  I'm sure it didn't take Drusilla long to figure it out.  She probably knew even before you realized she was there!  She's crazy, not clueless, you idiot!"  Pacing and shaking her head, she huffed.  "Hell, even Harmony who was clueless could tell you weren't a vampire.  Look where that almost got you!  And I'll bet just like Harmony, Drusilla would love to sink her fangs into you again!  Don't think she'd give a second thought to letting you li-"

"Buffy... Please.  Give us a minute t'explain," he pleaded softly.

She took a deep agitated breath and folded her arms angrily across her chest. _This'll be good..._

"I couldn't do it.  Couldn't stake 'er.  She really is vulnerable when she gets like that and I... I didn't have the heart to do it."  His gentle forlorn tone became more defensive when he said, "I'm sure you're not going to be too pleased to hear this, but there's a part of me that'll always care about 'er."  He saw that Buffy was about to resume her onslaught with some scathing comment or other, so he initiated countermeasures: "Just like there's a part of you that'll always care about Angel." 

He'd struck a chord: a pained look crossed Buffy's face and she turned away at the reminder of Angel. 

_Truth hurts, eh luv?  Believe me, I know.  Kills me, but I know some part of you will always love that ponce._

She couldn't recover easily from that hit, especially not after the awkward conversation she'd had with Angel earlier that evening.  Returning her gaze to Spike, she saw the misery in his eyes.  _Those beautiful eyes..._  In the past months, Buffy had come to appreciate the honesty in their message.  No matter what came out of his mouth, she always found the truth was in his eyes.

"Spike, I."  _What do I say?_  But she knew what needed to be said.  "I'm sorry.  I guess I was just... thrown by the idea that Drusilla was back, that she might hurt Dawn or you.  Take you away from me.  I couldn't bear to lose you again."  She took a deep breath then lightened the tone of the conversation, gave it a happier spin.  "I love you, you idiot.  Besides, you promised to marry me.  And we've got plans to make."  With that she reached for him.

Emotion overwhelmed Spike as he rushed into her arms.  He sealed his mouth on hers in a searing passionate kiss then he swept her up and set her down on the bed.

"You know, I could really get used to this," Buffy giggled as she began to pull off his T-shirt.

"Just hope you don't plan on getting used to calling me 'you idiot'," he muttered.


	7. 6 To Be My Wife To Be My Husband

Six:  TO BE MY WIFE

Buffy was on the phone when Dawn and Willow came into the kitchen.

"Yep.  Just a night out with the girls."

"Are you ready to go?" mouthed Dawn to her sister pointing in the direction of the door, as Willow tucked stakes into her pockets.

Buffy nodded and rolled her eyes.  "No-no.  We'll be fine."  She paused to listen to the voice on the other end of the line.  "Maybe we'll stop by later... if we don't hook up with any good looking guys-"

"Ah-hem," Willow cleared her throat and smirked.

"People.  If we don't hook up with any good looking people while we're out."  Buffy returned her friend's look then turned away.  Hunching slightly over the phone, she lowered her voice, "I love you too...  Yep.  Bye." 

"So Spike's checking up on you again, Buffy?" Willow teased.

"I think it's sweet," defended a grinning Dawn.

"He's just been a little over protective lately.  He seems to have forgotten that... I don't know," she said sarcastically, "that I'm the Slayer, and I've been kickin' demon ass since long before he had any claim on mine."  She looked at the wide-eyed faces of the other young women and her defiant tone slumped to embarrassed, "I can't believe I just said that."

"Buffy," Willow interjected, "I agree with Dawn:  it is sweet.  He's concerned about you, just wants to know you're alright... and he wants you to know he's thinking about you."

"And he wanted to hear you say you love him," Dawn added melodically in a 'nana-nah-nana-nah' manner, poking fun at her sister's attempt to hide that part of the conversation from them.

------- o -------

"So the invitations have gone out.  Caterer's been arranged.  The flowers and cake have been ordered," Buffy reviewed her to-do list as the young women wandered through the cemetery.  

Dawn and Willow were only half listening to her --- they were more concerned about actually finding any hungry vampires before the vamps' fangs found them.

"The dresses should be in soon at April Fool's.  Fittings next Wednesday?" Buffy paused to look up from her notebook for affirmation that Dawn and Willow would be available.  "Justice of the Peace is arranged.  Spike's looking after his tuxedo and the license.  I'll pick up his ring from the jewel-"

Suddenly from behind a large headstone, jumped a newly risen vamp hungry for blood --- what else?  The two other girls startled slightly, but quickly readied their stakes. 

Buffy just gave the vamp a "Do you mind?  Bride-to-be.  Important planning going on here," then ran him through with her pencil.  "Damn.  Broke the lead.  Anyway... where was I?  Right, chairs..."

TO BE MY HUSBAND

Spike sat staring at the computer screen.  Determined to do everything right and proper, he had asked Willow to help him research "legal marriage in the State of California".  It all seemed straightforward enough to begin with:  get a ring, ask the girl to marry you, trot over to City Hall (since Spike still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of a church wedding --- or a church anything else for that matter) and get the thing done.  Live happily ever after and what not.

But now, he needed names, dates, and all manner of legal documents.  Why hadn't this occurred to him before?  If only he'd gone to the trouble of getting himself the appropriate papers earlier --- like when he was looking for a job.  Back then he'd used a green card he'd "acquired".  He just hoped that his prospective employer wouldn't look too carefully at the card and asked that his paycheques be directly deposited to Buffy's account.  Seemed good enough at the time, but now, wanting to truly be the responsible and legal family man, he needed more than that.  He needed a real name, birthdate... a history!

"Sod it!" he grumbled at the glaring screen.

"Trouble, Spike?" Willow wandered in from the kitchen.  She'd been looking much better in the past few weeks.

Spike couldn't help noticing how much good a little California sunshine had done for both of them, remembering how he looked his first night back --- the first time he'd really studied himself in the mirror in over a century --- and how pale Willow had been when he'd come home from work to find her sitting in the living room after her return from "detox".  "Just tryin' to suss all this out." he mumbled nodding at the monitor.  "Such a bloody lot of fuss for somethin' that should be so simple."

"Well, you have to admit, yours is a... a unique situation.  For most people, stuff like that is simple," the redhead said smiling.  "Besides, consider how far you've already come.  You're not going to let a little government red tape get in the way of your happiness, now are you?  Doesn't sound like the anarchical Spike we all know and-"  She stopped abruptly.  

Willow had come to accept Spike as a housemate and a friend, even as the man Buffy loved, but she still couldn't bring herself to say she "loved" him, not even in jest.  Her struggle back to the "real world" had been an immense challenge --- still was, every day --- and she found it difficult to let people into her heart.  Even with Buffy and Xander things weren't as they had been, once...

"Let me see..."  Willow sat down and proceeded to research the legal ins-and outs. "Seems straight forward enough if you can get your hands on a birth certificate."

"Now how'm I going to get a birth certificate?"

"You can get anything on the internet."  A wicked gleam came to Willow's eyes.  "You just have to know where to look."

Spike sat in amazement watching the young woman work with an ease he could only describe as "magic" but which was in fact only the result of a wealth of knowledge of the technology at her dexterous fingertips.

After a few minutes, she sighed and asked, "So... what'll it be?"

"Sorry... What'll what be?"

"Your name?  What name would you like on your birth certificate?" she clarified.  "I can't very well put 'William T. Bloody, now can I?  Hey, while I'm at it, do you want a passport?  How 'bout naturalization papers?"

"Believe if or not, I'm quite happy as a British subject thank you very much," he declared with his chin held high.  "Between your beer and that blasted game you people refer to as 'football', I just assume stay loyal to Queen and country."

"Suit yourself."  Willow shrugged.  "Name?"

"Right then, William... ah... William Edward Stewart."  Spike looked over Willow's shoulder as she typed.  How strange it seemed to him to have said his name, to see it.  "Ah... Red.  That's S-T-E-W-A-R-T not U-A-R-T."

"Sorry."  She quickly corrected.  "Place of birth?"

"Camden Town, London, Middlesex, England."

"Yikes, that's quite a mouthful."

Spike rolled his eyes.

"OK, date?" she paused, curious about the response.

"Honestly don't recall," he remarked distantly.  "Not that you could put down the real date anyway."

"Well..." she pondered some meaningful possibilities, "do you know about when you... ah... became human again?"

"There's an idea. Ah... Should think it was the middle of July."

"How about the 19th?  That would put your 'birthday' six months after Buffy's," she noted.  "Year... let's see... how 'bout 19... ah... 1970?  Nice even number..."

"That would make me... 32!  Do I look 32 to you?!"  Spike scowled, taking great offence.

"Not a day over a hundred and f."  She smirked at his vanity.

He just sneered.

"OK then, how about 27. Better?"

He could live with that.  "Right then."  He watched as she typed in "1975".

"Father's name?"

"George Richard."

She tapped several keys.  "Mother's maiden name?"

"Margaret Whyte... That's with a Y."

More typing then, glancing over the marriage license application, Willow inquired with another smirk, "Previous marriages?"

He glared.  "None." 

"Just curious."  She snickered.

He was not amused.  "Anything else?"

"Nope, that should about cover it.  Let me print out a copy so you know the details for your marriage license," she offered.  "Once you and Buffy are married, there shouldn't be much to getting yourself a real green card.  I hear there's an interview process and that.  They'll want spy on you, see if the relationship's for real."  Willow winked.

Spike's demeanour changed dramatically at the notion of getting to show off his relationship with Buffy.  He smiled proudly.


	8. 7 To Have and To Hold

Seven:  TO HAVE AND TO HOLD

The air was still and permeated by the thick fowl stench of raw sewage, coal smoke, stale booze and the mustiness that comes from too much rain.  These were William's streets; the streets of Spike's youth. 

Inexplicably, he was drawn to a dark alley.  In front of him, a couple in elegant dress snogged on bales of hay.  As he reached his hand to the man's arm, both figures slumped to the ground.  Horror filled him when he saw their faces:  a man with a broad handle-bar moustache and a woman with her hair pinned in curls, old acquaintances; both with their throats savagely torn open; the man with a railroad spike through his skull.

"Well done my William.  Now you'll be strong... one of us."  The familiar voice was soft and sultry.

Appearing from behind him, dressed in black and white lace with ringlets tumbling down the back of her neck, lips stained red with blood, was Drusilla.

Turning, he was in a modest cottage, staring down at the bloodied bodies of three young women, probably sisters. 

"...and pretty maids all in a row..." chimed his Dark Princess.

Screams from outside.  Acrid smoke filled his lungs.  Bodies lay at his feet.  Blood splattered the walls, the floor, his clothes, his hands... 

Drusilla's voice sang out, "Ashes. Ashes...  We all fall down."  Then she giggled. 

Terrified screams, more smoke, searing flames, another body...

"Oh, Spyke, look at the wonderful mess you've made.  That's a Slayer you've done in." 

Explosions... moans... bursts of light in the darkness... the drone of tanks and heavy artillery.

"Naughty... wicked... Spyke."

More bodies... More blood... More of Drusilla's cackling and rhymes... Increasingly indiscernible sights, a cacophony of sounds... Spike's mind was becoming a blur of violent, gory images and blood-curdling cries...

Then with a crack:  clarity.

Dark rough walls.  Rattling chains.  Buffy in shackles.

His own voice, low and deep, "I... love you."

She jerks away in disgust.

Drusilla's laughter.  "It's so funny.  I knew before you did; I knew you loved the Slayer.  The pixies in my head whispered it to me."

Buffy's spiteful utterance, "The only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious."

Flashing freeze-framed scenes of the past intermixed with her voice...

"It would never be you... you're beneath me."

"You're just convenient."

"There is nothing good or clean in you...  You can't feel anything real!  I could never... be your girl!

A sea of blood...

unconscious... convenient... never your girl... beneath me... never be you... nothing good...

Silence.

Blinding bright light.

Buffy's frightened hateful face.  "Ask me again why I could never love you!"

------- o -------

Spike bolted upright, clutching his chest, gasping for breath and in a cold sweat.  Again.  For the fourth night that week. 

With each night, Buffy's concern for Spike heightened.  It seemed that these episodes --- which he'd casually described as "just part of the burden of [his] new soul" --- were occurring with increased frequency since his encounter with Drusilla weeks earlier.  Buffy was unsure as to the precise content of the dreams; Spike only admitted seeing images from his past --- images Buffy could only assume were gruesome, and on which she was relieved he never chose to elaborate.

_I wish I could help you.  I wish there was something I could do... or say to take away your pain._  Not wanting to compound his stress in this fragile post-dream state, Buffy would hold him and whisper comforting words.  "Shh... It's OK, William.  You're alright.  I'm here."  These were the only times she ever called him by his given name, but to both of them it just seemed right.  Tender.  Soothing.  

And most nights, hushed reassuring words and cuddling were enough to calm him.  Other nights, however, they had a considerably different effect...

She sat up with him briefly, rubbing his back to relax him.  Then she pulled his head to her chest, cradling it in her arms, as she settled them both down to rest on the bed.

With his head to her chest, he could hear the rhythmic beat of her heart.  

She stroked his hair then her breathy voice came to his ear, "Shh... William.  I'm here... and I love you.  Shh..."

Spike squeezed her tiny form tightly, breathing deeply the delicate blend of scents that was his Buffy.  Shaking as he exhaled, he eased his grasp.  Releasing her with his free arm, he strummed the back of his hand almost down the full length of her side beginning at her bare shoulder and ending below her knee.  As his hand made its return, now palm down and fingers splayed, the pressure was firmer.  On this night, Spike would not be content to simply hear Buffy's words.  He had to feel her body to be assured of her presence.  Spike would be unable to find solace until he was inside her; until she surrounded him.

As his wandering hand slid under her tank top to stroke her breast, her heart beat faster.  Buffy could feel his breath, deep and hot, even through her shirt.  A low whimper escaped her throat at his touch.  Tingles burst through her body. 

His two lecherous hands curled around her back, then up, swiftly stripping her top, allowing his voracious mouth and wanton tongue to taste her salty-sweet skin.

Tonight there would be no prolonged seduction.  No slow dance.  Tonight Spike was desperate, frantic, hungry.  Buffy knew it and shared his sense of urgency, of want.  She could feel his need... against her legs... in the firm touch of his hands... in the greediness of his mouth. Drawing his body closer to hers with her legs, her passion and readiness for him were unmistakeable.

_God, Buffy... I want you.  I need you.  Love me._  "Buffy, luv?" he pleaded to her, his voice thick with desire. __

"Yes, Spike," she cried huskily.  "Yes."  _I love you.  Want to show you.  Spike, please... I need you to know._

Without another word spoken, Spike slipped off her pajama pants and his own and positioned himself.

Buffy lay beneath him, legs parted, anticipating the glorious feeling of the man she loved. 

Supported on his stretched arms, Spike gazed upon her in wide-eyed wonder: that she would share her bed, her body, and her life with him had still not ceased to astound. 

Now (with the newfound freedom Buffy's little hormone tablets afforded them) there was no longer need for restraint.  In unison, they released euphoric groans as their bodies fused.  When Spike leaned in to take her mouth with his own, Buffy rolled them both.  With her now perched atop him, Spike was free to explore the smooth sensual curves of his beloved.  Buffy arched forward, throwing her head back as she moved rhythmically above him.  

The sight of her golden body, the sound of her low moans and ever deepening breaths, the feel of his own approaching climax culminated in an intensity Spike could no longer resist.  Using strong tight abdominal muscles, he sat up clutching Buffy close to him.  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he instructed slyly, "Hold on."

Quickly, keenly she laced her arms around his powerful shoulders and her legs loosely around his hips as Spike stood, sending profoundly pleasurable waves surging through their bodies from the point of their union.  

On this night, though the position was much as their first time together had been, the sensation and sentiment were very different.  That night had been passion born out of anger, violence, and pent-up frustration.  The moment of their coupling --- a shock to them both --- was followed by slow sensual movement and awe.  In contrast, on this occasion, Spike's desperation was rooted in fear, doubt and his need to know love.  Buffy yearned to express her love, to bring him comfort, to find pleasure in easing his pain.  The pace was hurried; the hold firm; the need overpowering... consuming them both.  With each repetition, the intensity mounted causing tears to burn in his eyes and her grip to tighten on his back, fingers digging into his flesh.

"I love you."

The combination of emotion, position, sensation... It wasn't long before they were both overcome.  Falling back onto the bed in a wave of complete release, catharsis, all tension drained. 

They snuggled down, drifting into sleep.  Their bodies entwined: a comfort to them both.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I didn't want to put this at the beginning (give away the fact there'd be sex in this chapter), but as those of you who've read my previous story The Windows of His Soul know, I can't do a real sex scene without a little public service announcement. 

So here goes: The characters described here are consenting adults involved in a long-term MONOGAMOUS relationship and are aware of the other's sexual history/health. Persons in other circumstances should consider that only barrier methods of contraception (primarily condoms, both male and female varieties) provide protection against sexually transmitted diseases.


	9. 8 From This Day Forward

Eight:  FROM THIS DAY FORWARD

It would be a simple ceremony:  just a small gathering of guests in the backyard. Together on the porch where they'd spent so many evenings talking, they would stand and join hands, hearts and souls, as husband and wife.

Neither of them had much "real" family in the sense of blood ties, but they had friends more cherished.  Buffy's father and his wife would attend the wedding, but she'd asked him to understand her wish to have another man walk her down the aisle.  Giles had been infinitely more influential and involved in her life than her father.  He'd nurtured her, guided her in her destiny, counselled her, even helped her out financially a time or two, and he loved her as his own... unconditionally.

She'd invited Angel.  Besides being a dear friend to her, he had been "family" to her beloved Spike for more than a century, even though the relationship had always been strained.  Angel wouldn't come, he told her.  She was the first woman in his 275 years that he really loved.  Though it had been years since Angel had accepted they couldn't be together, it still devastated him to hear not simply that she was getting married, but (perhaps more so) to whom.

Her sister had declined to be maid-of-honour, choosing instead the request to serve as "best man".  Buffy didn't push.  Her treasured friends Willow and Xander would stand beside her on a joyous occasion for a change. (The real upside here, of course, was that everyone in the wedding photos would at least appear perfectly "normal".)

The out-of-town guests, including Giles, had arrived safely and were settled at one of Sunnydale's nicer hotels.  Giles had flown in several days before the wedding to catch up on all that had been happening.  He and Spike actually seemed to be getting along rather well, particularly whilst on opposite sides of the bar at the "Fox and Hound".  It amused Giles to have Spike serve him.  To Giles, Spike seemed so uncharacteristically... charming tending bar.  And Spike didn't seem to mind taking Giles' orders; he'd really come into his own working at the Pub and enjoyed reminiscing with his old adversary.  Even Xander joined in the manly bonding the night before the wedding, promising Buffy he'd keep and eye on her two English "gentlemen".

------- o -------

Some time after noon the day of the wedding, Giles and Spike each clutched at his own pounding head as they struggled to sit up.  Together they pondered what had crawled into their mouths while they slept, and feared what might be making that "dreadful odour".

"Hate to sat it, guys," Xander said as he strolled in from his bedroom to where the two older men were laid out in the living room.  "No demons.  No evil mojo.  Not even a garbage strike.  That smell:  it's you."

"Oh dear Lord," and "Bloody hell," chimed out from the pair simultaneously as they slumped back onto the sectional.

"Look guys.  I promised Buffy I'd make sure you two get to the house, dressed and ready by 3:30...  Eech!" he grimaced as he caught a whiff from the living room.  "How's about I throw in 'sweet smelling' at no extra charge.  Towels are in the bathroom.  Soap.  Water.  Ever heard of them?  And might I recommend a heavy dose of mouthwash?"

------- o -------

At the house, Anya (who had reconciled somewhat with Xander, at least to the point she could be in the same room with him) and Dawn finished with decorations.  A couple of guys from Buffy's gym set up a few dozen rented chairs.  Willow checked on the caterer then headed up to the master bedroom to see to the bride.

Buffy stood by the window looking out at the scene unfolding below in wonder that this remarkable day had really come.  It was a beautiful spring afternoon.  The garden was full of flowers and foliage.  White folding chairs stood facing the house in staggered rows.  At the top of the porch steps, decorated with ivy and flowers, was an archway that Xander had built especially for the occasion.  Guests were beginning to gather in the yard, chatting in small groups. 

_So many new faces,_ Buffy noted seeing a few old friends, but also several new ones: a couple of her fellow trainers from the gym, a few extra special clients, Spike's mates from the Pub and Dawn's new boyfriend, who'd actually managed to survive an introduction to (and interrogation by) Spike and the Slayer. 

_How far we've come, Spike._  She closed her eyes and reflected on the times she and Spike had spent together.  It seemed so long ago that they'd been enemies.  She could hardly believe it they were the same people --- and really, they weren't.  Spike was no longer the sensitive guy hiding behind the bravado of the "Big Bad" demon.  Buffy wasn't the naïve but wisecracking high school girl.  They'd each "grown up" and overcome incredible adversity to find comfort and completion with the other.

'"Buffy... Buffy!"

She was shaken from her daydream with a smile across her face.

"Are you ready?  It's time!" squealed Willow, as she handed Buffy her bouquet: hand-tied wildflowers like the bunches Spike had set out for her the night he'd proposed.

Buffy descended the stairs dressed in an ever-so-slightly-off-white satin princess-cut gown that just grazed the floor in front but trailed slightly in a simple chapel-length train.  The beaded empire-banded bodice was woven in a tone-on-tone pattern and had spaghetti straps mimicking the twisted band of her engagement ring.  The gown's simplicity emphasized the elegance of Buffy's petite figure while the intricacy of the bodice accentuated her strong yet delicate upper body.

"Buffy.  You are simply stunning," declared Giles as she appeared.

"Yeah, Buff.  You look... yeah."  Xander couldn't help staring and stammering.

She hugged them both.  "Please stop.  I don't want to cry.  Mess up my makeup."  She took a deep breath.  "Guys?"  Buffy looked to her "bridesmaids".  "Could I have a minute with Giles?"

Willow and Xander headed out the back door to make sure everything was ready for the bride's arrival.

"Oh Buffy.  I am so pleased for you," Giles exclaimed with due British formality.  "This is truly an extr'ordin'ry day!"

"Giles. You've been such a dear friend to me..."  She struggled to find the words that expressed what she wanted to say to this man who had meant so much to her for these, the most difficult years of her life.  She sighed.  "I know that I've never exactly been easy to handle.  I know that in the beginning especially I didn't always..."  She corrected, with a smirk, ".well, I hardly ever did what you wanted.  I was I huge pain in the ass." 

They both sniggered.

"But through it all, you stuck with me."

"Buffy, I-" 

Giles tried to speak, but Buffy kept talking. She had to say her piece.  "I know that back then it was your job; you were just doing your duty, trying to teach me how to do mine.  But somewhere along the way I know that stopped being the case.  I honestly can't believe that any other slayer has ever had- could ever have a Watcher as special... as caring as you've been."  She bit her lip.  "You've helped me not only hone my skills and develop as the Slayer, but you've also given me the strength and guidance to develop as a person.  You've been there when I needed you, and you knew enough to let go..."  She rolled her eyes and dropped her head, smiling shyly, ".even when I couldn't believe that was what I needed."  Swallowing hard, she told him, "A lot of who I am today, I owe to you... and I just wanted to tell you how much I've appreciated having you in my life and that... I love you Giles."  She hugged him.

"Buffy," Giles grunted, trying subtly to remind the Slayer of the tightness of her hold.

"Oh Giles!"  She backed off, embarrassed.  "I'm sorry."

Smiling affectionately, Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his teary eyes with one hand (glasses dangling between two fingers), while the other rummaged in his tuxedo pocket for a handkerchief. 

As he began to clean the lenses, Buffy teased, "You really should look into contacts."

They chuckled and wandered together out the front door to make their way around the house to where the guests had assembled in the backyard.

------- o -------

When Xander saw Willow give the sign that Buffy and Giles were ready at the far end of the yard, he took a quick look at Spike, standing next to Dawn beneath the archway on the porch.  The groom, dressed in a black suit, vest and tie, looked as pale as he ever had as a vampire.  Anyone who'd known Spike in his previous incarnation but wasn't aware of his new status might have rushed to get Spike out of the sun lest he should burst into flames.  It appeared as if Dawn, who stood beside Spike, was actually keeping him from toppling off the steps.  

Xander caught Spike's attention, gave a sympathetic smile and nod of his head, which eased the edgy groom and remind him to breathe.  Seeing they were all as ready as they'd ever be, Xander heralded the guests, "Just before we get started, Buffy wanted me to play a little something... ah... special."  He pressed a button on the CD player and seconds later, Robert Preston was belting out the _Music Man_'s "76 Trombones".

"I'm not sure what this is all about," Dawn muttered to Spike, who smirked at hearing the tune.

_I know,_ he reflected thoughtfully to the evening of the Musical Demon Evil when he'd told her that, "The day you suss out what you do want there'll probably be a parade. Seventy-six bloody trombones."  _Cute, Slayer._

After switching CDs to more traditional wedding music, Xander took his place near the porch arch.

As he heard the music, Spike instinctively turned, seeing only his bride:  Buffy radiated beauty and love in the streams of sunlight that filtered through the trees.  To him, there was only her.  _My beautiful Buffy._

When Buffy's gaze met Spike's wide azure eyes, _Those__ amazing eyes...,_ she was returned to the night she descended the stairs to meet him in the foyer after she'd clawed her way back from the grave. He'd been so tender, so understanding, so loving to her.  As she approached him, she remembered the night he'd come back to her and seeing those beautiful soft eyes in the mirror, realizing for the first time that he was actually alive. 

At the bottom of the steps, Buffy paused and whispered a "thank you" to Giles as he kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand.

As his bride turned back to him, Spike offered her a hand and guided her up the steps to stand beside him. At that moment, their hearts beat as one while they travelled deeply into each other's eyes.

------- o -------

When the Justice of the Peace pronounced them husband and wife, their faces both brightened.  They were elated to hear words neither imagined would ever be spoken of either of them.  Their lips met in an explosive passionate kiss.

When they paused for breath, Buffy stumbled and exclaimed, "Whoa... That was some kiss!  I actually felt the earth move!"

"Ah... Buffy," Dawn piped up nervously.  "I'm pretty sure we all felt the earth move."


	10. 9 For Better, For Worse

Nine:  FOR BETTER OR FOR WORSE

"What do you mean 'we all felt the earth move'?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know, maybe it was an earthquake or something," her sister suggested.

The rumbling recommenced, causing guests to leap from their chairs.

"Hate to say it, pet.  But more likely it's-"  Spike was interrupted as an enormous serpentine creature with glowing red eyes rose from the ground in the middle of the yard. "-that," he finished, nodding at the beast.

"Welcome to the Hellmouth," Buffy mumbled.  "Everyone in the house!"

Turning to her maid-of-honour, Buffy asked, "Will, can you manage some kind of general protect spell?  I'd hate for this thing to eat any of the wedding guests."

"How about a hold on it first?" Willow recommended, raising a hand to the creature and speaking some ancient phrase to contain it.

"Good on you, Red," Spike congratulated.

"Happy to help."

"Now, let's get changed and get after that thing.  I am not going to let this ruin our special day... or my designer dress!"  Buffy kissed Spike chastely then they all went into the house, save Willow who remained outside to ensure continuance of the spell.

Inside, Buffy got the caterer to begin serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres, then had a quick word with Giles.

"Now everyone," he began as Buffy headed upstairs.  "There's no cause for alarm.  This sort of thing happens all the time.  Someone's pet snake gets loose in the sewer system and..."

"I can always count on Giles," said Buffy as she closed the bedroom door. 

"Yeah, Rupert's always good for an ordinary explanation to an extraordinary situation.  Right then, luv.  What'll we do now?" Spike asked as he tossed the jacket of his tux over the back of a chair.  Turning to his new bride with a raised eyebrow and devilish gleam in his eyes, he smirked suggestively.  "I can think of a couple of things..."

"Not now, Spike," Buffy barked.

He recoiled.  "Bugger.  Slayer's back."

She went to him, put a gentle hand to his pouting face and purred, "Later Spike.  We have our whole lives for that."  With a light smacking on his cheek, she added, "First we get rid of the big snaky thing; then the guests; then we can..."  

They exchanged gleeful grins.

------- o -------

Weapons in hand, Buffy, Spike and Dawn slipped out the bedroom window.  They climbed down the tree, dropping on the back porch where Willow was maintaining the barrier spell.

------- o -------

Inside, Anya was trying to preserve order amongst the guests by regaling them with stories of the bride and groom.  Xander did his best to "discreetly" slip through the crowd with a broadsword and axe.  Giles simply endeavoured to make his way through the guests to the backyard to lend some assistance.

"Oh, so you're Giles," one guest would stop him.  "We've heard so much about you from Buffy."

No sooner would he escape one group and another would delay him.

"Oi Rupert.  Wills tell us you're back in England."

"Wills?" he'd mutter. "Oh yes, Spike."

------- o -------

Meanwhile outside, the fierce snake had begun to thrash as Willow broadened the containment field to allow Buffy and the others access to the beast.  It hissed, snapped its venomous sabre-like teeth and erratically lashed its forked tongue, making successive offensive strikes nearly impossible for its opponents.  Together Buffy and the group jabbed and stabbed, and poked and choked... but little they did made much more than a scratch.

"Will!" Buffy called.  "Open the barrier.  We're coming out."

The exhausted and dismayed fighters gathered with Willow on the porch as Giles finally made his way outside with Clem.

"Hey all," greeted the floppy skinned demon.  "Great crab puffs, Buffy.  Canapé anyone?" he offered, extending a tray.

"I'm afraid it'll take more than that if we're going to keep that thing under control," mumbled Xander as he stuffed the nibbles into his mouth.

"Oh, is that still here?" Clem asked casually. 

The rest of the group responded with wide-eyed stares. 

"What?"

"You suggesting there's an easy way to get shut of this thing, mate?" inquired Spike.

"Renochi Charmer Snake," the demon stated matter-of-factly.  "A little skilled mind-control can get it to do what you want."

Discouraged, Willow noted, "I can't seem to-"

"What if what I want is for it to go away and not eat my guests?!" a frustrated Buffy cut in.

"Good point," Clem acknowledged.  "Might be easier to just kill it then, huh?"

More stunned faces.

"We've tried. We just can't do it," Dawn explained, hopelessly.

"Well that's because you're attacking its top side: head, back and that. You've got to get underneath," the demon explained.  "It's got a soft spot on its underbelly.  Keeps it well protected when it surfaces.  Yeah, one time a cousin of mine-"

"So, we've got to go underground?" Buffy reiterated.

"Right then. Let's go, Slayer," Spike said determinedly. "Think we can get at its tunnel through the sewer."

"Sounds good," she agreed.  _Well, as good as crawling around in a stinky tunnel could at least._  "Will, you'll be alright here?"

"Sure Buffy."

As they turned to go around to the front of the house, they were met by an all-too-familiar slim silhouette.  "So sorry to be late.  Nasty sun.  See you got my prezzie then."

"Drusilla! What are you doing here?" Buffy demanded.

"Came to give you both my best, I 'ave," the raven-haired woman hissed in reply. "Couldn't let my Spyke go without a good send off, now could I?"

Suddenly the creature screeched and surged up; Drusilla had to be controlling it.

"Ah... Buffy?" Willow interjected.  Her face was strained.  "I. don't think I'm going to be able to hold this thing much longer."  One of the repercussions of her crazed magic rampage and subsequent "treatment" the previous year was a significant limitation on the witch's power base.

Spike turned to his former lover.  "Dru, please..."

As he moved toward her, Drusilla shifted into game face ready to attack then abruptly backed off confused, as if each step Spike took toward her was pushing her away.  "What 'ave you done?  I can feel it... all around you."  Then, the vamp startled.  Her human face returned and a gloomy look overtook her.  "He's come to spoil our game."

Instantaneously, the writhing creature fell silent and dropped to the ground.

"What the-" chimed several stunned voices.

"Dru, what's happened?" Spike coaxed.

"It's my Angel," she sobbed.  "He's taken my present away."

"What is she talking about?" pressed Buffy.  "Angel's in L.A."

"Actually Buffy," Willow piped up.  "He isn't.  Or.or at least he... wasn't.  He was here, in Sunnydale... late this afternoon."

"What do you mean?  Where?"

"Ah... Here. In the shadows of the yard," Willow replied hesitantly.  "Buffy, he wanted to see you be happy.  He needed to know that this was really what you want.  That you're happy with Spike."

"It's true, Buffy."  Angel appeared behind Drusilla, grabbing hold of her.

"Oh... my Angel," cooed Drusilla as she leaned into him.

"Leave town now, Dru," Angel insisted, "and you leave alive."

"You are a naughty daddy, my Angel."  Drusilla pouted.  "Ruin my wedding present and then not let me stay for cake."

"Dru," Angel and Spike growled.

"Alright.  Unhand me and I'll be off.  Just one last kiss for the groom," she said as she lurched toward Spike.  

Angel gripped her tightly and jerked her away.  Giving her a shove through the open gate, he followed her to the street.

"Wow... That was something, huh?" exclaimed Dawn.

"Indeed.  Rather fortunate Angel turned up," Giles commented.

"Yeah," both Buffy and Spike muttered, in slightly sarcastic tones.

The gang followed to where the two vampires had gone, out to the front of the house, to find Angel standing alone in the street.

"She's gone," he said simply, almost sadly. 

Seeing the stake in his hand, they knew what he really meant. 

"None of us would ever be safe..."  His voice trailed off in a whisper.

All were quiet.

Turning to Spike, Buffy found him stoic.  "Spike..."  Her tone oozed compassion, but she could find no words.

"S'alright, luv."  Spike swallowed hard.  "Had to be done.  Angel only did what I... I couldn't do."

Changing the mood, Buffy drew closer to Angel and, with an irritated edge, reminded, "I thought we talked about this sneaking-in-and-out-of-town-without-a-word business.  You weren't going to do it anymore."

"I know," Angel conceded. "Sorry. Kind of a... last minute decision. I wasn't sure I could come... wasn't sure I wanted to. But Buffy, I needed to come." He moved to put his arms around her and she accepted his loving hold. "I wanted to see you happy...and I could tell that you are."

As Spike approached the pair, Angel released Buffy and moved to meet the scowling man.  "Congratulations," said Angel offering an outstretched hand to his old adversary. "See that she's happy." 

"No worries," Spike replied solemnly.

When Spike reached to accept the hand, Angel pulled his Childe to him in a caring embrace. "And be happy... William."

The kindness and sincerity of Angel's words moved all to silent tears.

------- o -------

Buffy, Spike and Dawn retreated through the upstairs window to change back into their wedding attire.  Giles, Angel, Clem, Xander and Willow wandered back through the kitchen.  

Guests were still mingling --- confused and curious about what was going on and what had happened to the bridal couple.  As the pair made their way down the stairs, looking somewhat flushed, guests (who by then had drawn their own conclusions about what Buffy and Spike had been doing) began to whoop, cheer and applaud the newlyweds.

"I wish we'd actually been doin' what this lot think we've been doing," Spike grumbled to his bride as they positioned themselves for the cake cutting.

"Me too," Buffy whispered to him.


	11. 10 For Richer, For Poorer

Ten:  FOR RICHER, FOR POORER

After several months of happily struggling to balance both their chequebooks and their day-jobs with Buffy's slaying and life in general, one day came the prospect for a little extra cash.  Now this wasn't the first time Spike found himself across the bar from some bloke with an idea ("scheme", the word Buffy would be apt to use) to make some money on the side.  He'd had lots of opportunities but out of loyalty to his love (given her reaction after the Suvolte demon egg debacle a couple of years earlier), Spike was determined to stick to the straight-and-narrow.  On this particular occasion, Spike had been chatting up a couple of his regulars --- guys who knew something of his old life --- when a fellow he thought he recognized but couldn't seem to place, sat down at the bar.

"So tell me, friend," the man began after ordering a beer, "you ever think about putting some of those stories down on paper?"

_Matter of fact, I've been working on the memoirs off and on for the better part of the last century._  Casually, Spike inquired, "Why do you ask?"

"I'm in the business.  Horror pictures mostly.  In town scouting for the sequel to _Arac__ Attack_," the guy explained.  "Filmed here a while back."

"Right."  Now Spike remembered the man:  he'd been yelling explicatives at Buffy who'd interrupted the filming of his picture by almost impaling his giant mechanical arachnid believing it was a Kralliq spider bound on terrorizing the good people of Sunnydale.  Spike couldn't help grinning as he thought back to those early days after his return from Africa --- and to the living.  "Seems to me, I heard something about that," he chuckled.

"So yeah.  If you're interested... Get something written.  I could pass it along to some people.  Maybe make something out of it."

Spike took the man's card, _Mike McKinney,_ and agreed to get in touch with him if he came up with anything.

------- o -------

After work that evening, Spike headed upstairs and dug his lock box out of the closet.  Inside there were several small notebooks of various ages and sizes; sketches of Spike, some with his vampire relations --- mostly with Drusilla, drawn by Angelus or some street artist that had, perhaps, become a snack afterwards; a very worn and faded photograph of his long lost human family; and a couple snapshots of Buffy that he'd salvaged from his shrine to her.

For the next several weeks, Spike spent much of his free time scribbling notes and typing at the computer. 

Months later, Mike McKinney came back into the "Fox and Hound".

"Oi mate," Spike greeted. "Filming started?"

"Yep.  Just taking a break.  Crew's driving me nuts," complained the man better known in the slasher film business as "Movie Mike", as he sat down on a stool.  "So, you give any thought to my offer?"

"Matter of fact, I've put down several ideas.  Bunch of short stories.  Don't s'pose you know a publisher?" Spike inquired half-joking.

"Actually, I do.  A lotta my stuff comes from books... or becomes a book after," the guy told him.  "What sorta stuff you got?"

"Well, seein' as you do horror flicks, that's what got me started," explained Spike enthusiastically.  "Thought maybe I could get a book together."

They chatted a while longer and Spike jokingly tossed out an idea for a movie about a teen-aged girl who kills vampires. 

"Hey... that sounds great," Movie Mike declared.  "Give the young gals a role model and guys some eye candy."

_Eye candy.__ Yep. She sure is that,_ Spike thought of his beautiful wife.

Some time later, Spike met with an editor to flesh out his ideas into a collection of dark and sinister stories of a "fictional" vampire's life. 

------- o -------

The following year, Spike had a special gift for his wife.  "Happy anniversary, luv," he said, brushing a gentle peck across her lips.  "I know 'paper' is the traditional gift for the first anniversary... so this is a little late."  He pulled out a large manila envelope tied with a loose ribbon.  "But I hope you like it."

"So what is it?" Buffy asked curiously, holding the package.

"Op'n it."

She unlooped the clasp on the overlap of the envelope and pulled out a thick stack of bound paper.  The centre of the top sheet read,

BLOODY DARK MEMOIRS

-- through the Vampire's Eyes --

An Anthology of Gruesome Tales

By T. B. Williams

"Spike," she said tentatively, "I don't understand.  What is this?  Who's T.B. Williams?"

He grinned.  "Well... what if I told you the 'T.B.' stands for 'The Bloody'?"

"Spike, what are you talking about?"

"It's my manuscript, luv," he announced.  "I've written a book. 'bout my life.  Well, parts of it anyway."

"Great..." she commented, in a "not really" sort of way.  "That should be... hmm... I guess 'gruesome' is as good a word as any.  What ever gave you the idea you could write a book?  Or should write a book, for that matter?" 

"Met a guy," he explained.  "He put me in touch with some people... They're going to publish it."

"What?!  Really?  That's incredible news!"  She dropped the stack on the table and wrapped her arms around him.  "I'm so proud of you." 

Spike's heart skipped.  _"I'm proud of you."_  He beamed her words.

"Got somethin' else," he said slyly, handing her a second envelope.

"What's this?  More presents?"  She tore into the second envelope.  "Oh my god!"

Spike had presented Buffy with (what for the pair was) a sizable cheque advance on expected royalties from what would become one of the most successful horror genre compilations in history --- although the work would never make it to "Oprah's Book Club" list.

------- o -------

The following summer, the low-budget film _Joan the Demon Hunter_ hit theatres. Though the movie didn't fare well at the box office, a network executive whose teenaged daughters thought it was "cool" offered a TV pilot.  A decade after the movie release, the TV series (going into its seventh season) had become a world-wide "cult favourite" making big stars out of relative unknowns, spawning two spin-off shows including the incredibly popular, _Randy: The Series_, and earning critical acclaim for reclusive creator Bill Stewart (yep, another Spike pseudonym).


	12. 11 In Sickness and In Health

Eleven:  IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

Buffy had been going hard at work and slaying.  The post-holiday season always seemed to mark the start of pre-swimsuit-season panic and the rise in demon activity on the Hellmouth prior to the spring climax. This particular year, there hadn't been any serious "Big-Bad"-type evil, just the regular Sunnydale variety... amplified.

Buffy was getting run down.  She'd caught a cold before Christmas and just couldn't seem to shake it.  An evil demon cold bug?  Perhaps, lots of folks in Sunnydale were displaying similar signs.  Given that no new menace had as yet been identified, speculation amongst the Scooby Gang abounded.  Alas, research produced nothing, so no one was really sure.

After several weeks, Spike begged Buffy to see a doctor and forego work and slaying altogether to rest; he and the Scoobies would take up the slack.

"Spike, I'm fine. It's just a cold," Buffy insisted.

"Please Buffy," he pleaded, "Just a few days, luv.  You're looking a bit-"

"Oh I see:  I look awful."  She was getting defensive.

_Hate when she gets like this; won't hear reason._  Spike sighed.  "Well, you must admit, you're a bit... pale."

Buffy was emphatic, "I'm just tired."

"Right then.  Take a few nights off," urged Spike.  "Go to be early.  We'll sleep late-"

"Oh I get it.  Now it's about getting me in the sack is it?" she snapped.

He winced.  _Set myself up for that one.  Should've seen it coming._  "No luv, I just thought-"

Buffy glared.  "Doing the thinking for me, again?!" 

_Girl's really on her game today.  Her mouth's certainly not sufferin' any; tongue's still razor sharp._  Spike would have found the escalating conversation entertaining --- even arousing --- had he not been so worried about Buffy's health.  "Sod it."  Spike threw his hands in the air.  "I give up.  Do what ever you bloody well please, like always," he conceded and went to leave the room.

Without warning Buffy collapsed. 

"Buffy!"  He rushed to her side.  "God luv.  You're burning up.  Let's get you to a doctor."

------- o -------

Diagnosis:  a "touch of" the flu had turned to pneumonia. 

Treatment:  bed-rest, fluids and a course of antibiotics.

Spike ensured the doctor's instructions were followed to the letter.

For a few weeks, everything appeared to be as normal.  But before long, the concerned husband was taking his sickly wife back to the doctor following a similar episode.

Buffy had been in the examination room a long while.  The doctor and nurse had been in and out several times each.  Spike was growing increasingly agitated imagining the worst.  _Joyce blacked out a lot because of the brain tumour... Oh God, not Buffy._

The nurse approached the waiting area.  Keen for answers, Spike leapt to his feet and walked toward her.

"Excuse me."

"Mr. Summers?" asked the nurse.

"Yes.  How's my wife?  How's Buffy?"  His tone was strained.  His brows arched.  Trepidation filled his wide eyes.

Pleasantly, the nurse simply replied, "Please come with me.  Doctor Brandt asked me to bring you back."

"What's the matter with her?  Is it serious?  Will she be alright?"  His worry heightened with each unanswered question and every step toward the exam room.  _What will I do without her?_

When he was lead into the room, Buffy, dressed in a paper gown, greeted him anxiously from atop the exam table, "Hi Spike.  Doctor Brandt, this is my husband, Sp-"

"William Summers," Spike intervened.

Even after several years together, Buffy still hadn't gotten used to the "regular guy" identity he'd assumed.  To her, he was still "Spike", just a new improved super human version. (That's "super human" as in a "yippee isn't this wonderful, Spike's alive" kind of way, as opposed to "superhuman", like herself, having exceptional abilities or powers.)

"What's wrong with my Buffy, Doctor?"  His fear rang out through his voice.

"Please, take it easy, Mr. Summers.  Have a seat," the doctor instructed, trying to calm the nervous wreck before her.  "Your wife is just fine.  The problems she's been having the past couple of weeks are perfectly normal for a woman in her condition."

"Condition?  What condition?!"  _Why the bloody hell can't I just get a straight answer?!_

"Spike."  Buffy reached to her edgy husband and took his hand.  "I'm fine.  Just a little pregnant is all."  _Yeah, "a little".__  Ha!  Trying to keep things light.  La-la la-la la._

"Preg-"  Stunned, he was unable to get the word out.

"We're going to have a baby," she squeaked hesitantly.

"A baby?!" 

_Do you have to repeat the end of every one of my sentences?_  Buffy frowned.  _I mean really, what do you think?_

"How'd this happen?" Spike asked.  "Oh, course I know how it happens.  But how did this happen?!  We've always been careful," he rambled.  "I mean, always.  We never-"

"Well, as I've explained to your wife, it's possible that the antibiotics she was taking for the pneumonia may have decreased the effectiveness of the contraceptive pills," Doctor Brandt suggested.

Buffy smiled nervously at her husband, "Or it might just be another one of our little miracles."

"True," the doctor agreed.  "In any event... It's early days yet, but if all goes well, and I can't see any reason to doubt it will," she assured, "you should expect your little bundle around about the end of October.  In the mean time, let's get you set up for an ultrasound and a follow-up.  And Mr. Summers, I'd like my nurse to draw some blood.  Buffy is O negative, so we'll want to check your Rh factor...."

Spike chuckled then muttered, "I've always been right fond of O neg."  He'd taken to making "vampire-esque" remarks again since he began writing his memoirs in earnest.

Buffy's jaw dropped and eyes widened. _Did he really say that out loud?!_

------- o -------

Spike took Buffy's hand as they made their way to the SUV.

"Spike?" Buffy began tentatively.

"Yes luv?"

"Are you OK about this?  The baby, I mean."

Spike stopped and turned Buffy toward him, holding her at arms length with both hands so he could see her face.  "Course, Buffy-luv.  Yes.  Aren't you?"

She had that "timid little girl" look about her.  "Well, I just wasn't sure.  I mean, we've never really talked about it except in the we're-SO-not-ready sense."

"But that was years ago," he said with a smile as he cupped the side of her face.  "Now, I won't say I wasn't a little... surprised when you told me.  But I guess I was just so relieved to hear you were alright... I don't know... This is all just so... remarkable."

And, of course it was --- that a man who'd been dead for over a century and a woman, who'd cheated death twice, exceeding her prophesied life expectancy by more than a decade, had created a new life to share literally and metaphorically --- remarkable, indeed.

"Are you happy, luv?" Spike asked, his tender blue eyes searching her apprehensive olive ones.

"I... I think so..." replied Buffy nervously.  "I mean... Spike, I'm kinda scared."  She began to cry.

"Oh Buffy.  Why?"  He put his arms around her and smiled.

"Well... this is big.  I mean really big.  A baby."

"Yes luv."  He held her tightly.  "Our baby."

------- o -------

As Buffy's pregnancy progressed, concern grew right along with her abdomen.  At first it was only Spike and Dawn who worried and made sure she never patrolled alone.  Summer was slow on the slaying front and the Scoobies helped out.  It gave them time together; time that was becoming increasingly limited as their own lives and responsibilities took them in different directions.

By the end of summer, with Buffy in her third trimester, everyone was worried about her --- and, to her annoyance, everyone was giving her advice:  her doctor (to whom she paid more heed than anyone else on the subject of her pregnancy), her husband, sister and closest friends (whom she tried to indulge as much as possible), just about every little old lady at the grocery store.  It was driving Buffy crazy and only made her want to patrol more to work out her aggression.

Dr. Brandt had recommended reducing Buffy's work load at the gym to client training sessions only --- no more heavy aerobics, kick-boxing, or other high impact teaching.  _Ha.  High impact.  You don't know the half of it, Doc._

Spike was at his whit's end trying to convince Buffy she simply shouldn't be patrolling anymore.  In an attempt to find a replacement to take the pressure of her duty off Buffy's shoulder, he entrusted Giles to persuade the Council to send someone to take over.  Giles, of course, was no longer with the Council, a fact of which Spike was aware, but the desperate father-to-be simply knew of no other person who could help him.  He was confident, however, that Giles would do everything he could for Buffy, as would any other loving "father" for his daughter.

Speaking with members of the Council, Giles learned that Faith had been killed a few years earlier in a prison riot --- surprisingly to some, she was trying to stop the chaos when she was fatally wounded in the crossfire.  Her replacement barely lasted long enough to be identified by the Council.  After almost a decade without any real control, the Council had high hopes for their newest Slayer.  They were quite insistent that if they were to send her to Sunnydale, Buffy, Spike and the Scoobies could not interfere with this Slayer, her Watcher, or his methods of instruction.

The Scoobies were more than willing to comply:  Willow and Xander were finding that --- especially after a full day's work --- they just weren't as spry as they'd been in their teens and early twenties.  Willow was now teaching computer science full-time at the high school, and she'd found herself on more than a few occasions having to dust a former student.  Xander preferred his chisels to stakes, creating to destroying.  He'd developed quite a name for himself in the community as a fine wood-finishing craftsman, so his professional skills were always in demand and kept him busy.  And if that wasn't reason enough, they both found it tough to meet prospective companions in cemeteries in the middle of the night.  For them, the "thrill" of slaying had long waned.

Dawn was a little harder to convince.  She'd developed some finesse of her own and actually enjoyed slaying, but soon she'd be graduating from U.C. Sunnydale.  Buffy wanted Dawn to find a job somewhere that she could enjoy a "normal" life.  She and Spike were doing well financially, due in large part to the success of his first two volumes of stories, so Buffy had offered to help her sister to get set up somewhere --- anywhere other than Sunnydale.  While Dawn wasn't yet ready to "leave the nest", she consented to leave slaying to "the professionals".

Spike only wanted to know his wife and child would be safe.  Having a soul and being alive hadn't really changed his loyalties much; they still lay firmly with those he loved.  What had changed, was his claim to need for a "spot of violence" before bed'. He no longer felt it --- frankly he'd have traded the violence for some sweet snogging or a good shag with Buffy (a mediocre one for that matter) long before he'd actually had that opportunity.  In the years since his "rebirth", Spike had only gone out on patrol to help her.  With Buffy agreeing to refrain from patrolling until after the baby was born, Spike was more than satisfied to pass every night snuggled up to his darling wife in lieu of roaming cemeteries in search of demons.

------- o -------

At 6:24 p.m. on October 31 --- Halloween --- Jack Giles Summers was born, by caesarean section.  (Come on:  that "big head on that skinny little body".  The regular way: not gonna happen.)  7lb 13oz.  Mother Buffy recovering well.  Proud father, William, buying rounds for mates.


	13. 12 To Love and To Cherish

Twelve:  TO LOVE AND TO CHERISH

Weeks had passed since the baby was born and although she was (for the most part) back to "normal", Buffy found she just hadn't regained her strength.  She'd spoken with her doctor about it, but Doctor Brandt seemed satisfied with her progress.

_Yeah, but I'm talking about superhuman Slayer strength,_ she thought, frustrated.

Spike shared her concern.  He knew that Buffy was getting restless having been away from slaying for months, but he could tell from training with her that she was in no condition to be out fighting vampires and the like:  Buffy was weak.  They were both convinced it had to be than more than simply the fatigue from too many sleepless nights up with a newborn.  Since Buffy was the only person they knew experiencing the problem, however, they concluded it must be connected to the pregnancy in some way.

------- o -------

Giles was coming to celebrate Christmas with the extended Summers family.  He looked forward to seeing the "Scooby Gang" but especially his dear Buffy and her child.

"Hello Rupert?" Spike's voice came through the receiver one December morning.

"Spike?" Giles inquired somewhat stunned by the caller.  Like Buffy, Giles was never able to make the change to call him "William".

"Yeah.  It's me."  With a huff, Spike asked, "Wondered if you could do a little research before you come out for the festive season."

"What did you need to know?" he replied bewildered.

"It's rather to do with Buffy. She's not been quite herself since our Jack was born," explained Spike, trying to sound nonchalant but suspecting his distress would be audible in his voice.

"I see," Giles acknowledged.

"Thought you could look up past Slayers and their post-pregnancy experiences."

"Oh certainly, Spike," Giles agreed then cautioned, "though I can't actually say I know of any previous Slayers who've had children after being Called."

"Didn't s'pose you would," Spike said gravely.  "If you can think of any other theories for the weakness, I'd appreciate that just the same."

Giles attempted optimism, "Of course.  I'll see what I can come up with."

"Rupert... she really is worried," stressed Spike.  "She mentioned something about the 'last time' this happened.  Said she felt helpless.  Almost got herself killed.  You know anything about that?" he asked.  "Could this the same thing again?" 

Spike had, without realizing it, brought up a sore point in Giles' past with Buffy.  Just before her 18th birthday in order to perform the required "Cruciamentum" (the traditional test for Slayers who managed to achieve the milestone), Giles had actually been poisoning his Slayer, severely impairing her strength and coordination.  Ashamed by his part in the barbaric ritual and worried for the girl for whom even then he felt a father's love, Giles told Buffy what was happening to her and why.  Needless to say, she felt angry, betrayed... violated; her trust in Giles was shattered, and that knowledge crushed him.

"Rupert?  You still there?" Spike queried.

Giles snapped back to their conversation.  "Oh... Spike.  Yes, I'm... yes.  I'm here," he stammered.  "And no, I am quite certain Buffy's problems are not the result of the same... factors as the time to which she's alluded."

Hoping for something encouraging he could pass along to Buffy, Spike pressed, "So we're still guessing then?"

"I'm afraid so."

Spike's voice was low and discouraged:  "Well, do the best you can."

"Right then.  See you in a few weeks.  Please, do give my love to Buffy and Jack," requested Giles sincerely.

------- o -------

The day Giles arrived from England, Spike made a point of picking him up at the airport.  Buffy didn't over-analyse the gesture because Spike had been quite insistent about doing alot of things lately.

"Oi! Rupert," Spike called as Giles exited the passenger gate.  

They exchanged an awkward embrace, much as they had years earlier when they believed they were father and son as a result of Willow's forget spell fiasco.

"Welcome home."

Once they were in the car, Spike could no longer contain his anxiety.  "So tell me, Rupert, what have you learned about previous Slayers with kiddies?"

Giles took a deep breath and removed his glasses.  "Well Spike.  I'm afraid it's as I suspected.  While there have been Slayers who already had children when they were Called, Buffy is indeed the first Slayer on record to actually bear a child.  As you know, it's... a dangerous vocation and most Slayers die very young."

A guilty feeling struck Spike:  _Yes, I seem to recall being the cause of death for a Slayer or two._

"It's rare for them to actually have any friends at all and as for-"  Giles cleared his throat.  "-male companionship... well, only a very few identified were known to have been pregnant.  None of them survived to bring their babies to term."  He finished bleakly.

"I've always known our Buffy was something special," Spike put on a positive spin.

Spike's choice of the word "our" seemed to perk Giles up. "Indeed.  Tell me, what exactly seems to be the trouble.  You'd mentioned she'd not gotten her strength back?"

"Her Slayer strength," Spike clarified.  "Oh sure, she gets about well enough.  Tad rusty with some of her moves, but s'pose 'major abdominal surgery' will do that," he paraphrased the doctor's response to their concern about Buffy's mobility a couple of weeks after the birth.  "She is getting better on that score every day, though.  Now I'm not sayin' she's weak as a kitten; she's got the strength of just about any woman her age.  But you of all people know she's not like any other woman."

"Yes, well then.  We shall have to do a few tests.  I don't suppose you've mentioned my research to Buffy."  Knowingly, Giles words came out more as a statement than a question.

"In a word, 'no'.  Was hopin' you'd come up with some straight-forward explanation and we'd be able to say in a couple of days or weeks, whatever, everything would be 'right as rain'."

------- o -------

They arrived home to find Buffy asleep on the couch with baby Jack nestled beside her.

With a care that astounded Giles, Spike lifted the swaddled baby and handed the bundle to him.  "There you are, my Jack. This is your mum's dear old 'Giles'."

Before Giles could take offence to "old", he was further taken aback by the gentleness with which Spike swept Buffy's tiny sleeping form up in his arms.  She barely stirred.

"Rupert. I'm just going to tuck the Slayer here into bed. I'll not be a minute."

As Spike went upstairs, the baby roused.  Instinctively, Giles began to rock and sing a soothing tune as he looked into Jack's green eyes.  There he saw the dear girl who'd become a daughter to him.  He couldn't imagine that any real grandfather could be prouder than he was, holding Buffy's son.

------- o -------

Christmas morning, Buffy awoke early --- as mothers with wee babes are apt to do whether they want to or not, even when it's not Christmas --- with her beloved Spike asleep next to her and baby Jack in his bassinet by the bed whimpering to be fed.  _Our baby, Spike,_ she thought blissfully as she picked Jack up and carried him to the rocker Xander made for them.  As she suckled her baby --- a baby she never dreamed she'd live to have --- Buffy shed a tear of joy at this life she'd won.  If she hadn't been Called, none of this would be real. 

Sure, relationships had suffered and there was alot about being the Slayer she'd be happy to forget (primarily the actual slaying).  Her parents might have stayed together without the strain of a trouble-making teen that burns down school gymnasiums... but maybe not.  Her mother would probably still have died from the aneurysm following the brain tumour, but since they wouldn't have moved to Sunnydale, Buffy would have had none but her shallow L.A. friends with whom to share her pain; Willow and Xander wouldn't have been a part of her life.

Without her Calling, she would never have met Giles, who, in spite of his gentle demeanour, had been such a powerful influence on her life.  Monks would never have sent the "Key" to her for protection, so she would never have known Dawn's love --- or her own love of Dawn's cheesecake.

_I could have done without that,_ she supposed after pondering the dozen or so extra pounds she couldn't seem to lose since the baby was born.  Glancing at the sleeping form in her bed, she chuckled.  _Someone doesn't mind those extra pounds though._  In her head, she could see Spike's lascivious scans of her swollen bosom and the extra curviness of her posterior.

And of course, had Buffy not been the "Vampire Slayer", she never would have met vampires Angel, her first love, or Spike, the love of her life, without whom she'd not have their little fuzzy-flaxen-haired boy. 

"Ouch!  Geez Jack.  Go easy," she scolded gently as she broke the tight vacuum he had on her now very sore nipple.  As she shifted him to her other side, and he began to feed again, Buffy settled back into her reflection.

------- o -------

Giles found himself staying in the baby's room while in Sunnydale --- a significant improvement over the couch he'd slept on years before.

There had been a number of changes in the sleeping arrangements in the house over the past half dozen years.  Buffy and Spike were now in the master bedroom.  Together they'd stripped layers of wallpaper and repainted the walls and ceiling in soft earthy greens.  A large Persian rug covered the restored hardwood flooring:  a reminder of their trysts in the "good old days".  

Willow had moved to Buffy's room and stayed for several months before finding a place of her own and really getting her life back.  The striped paper and butterflies gave way to a mottled paint finish in cream and taupe.  Touches of brick red and black wrought iron highlighted the room, which was now Dawn's.  When she found out the baby was on the way, Dawn gave up her room.  She'd suggested putting the baby in the room closer theirs would make things easier for Buffy and Spike.  Truthfully, she simply wanted the more sophisticated retreat Willow had created.

Dawn's former room was now little Jack's.  Giles was quite at ease in the space that Spike had painted in a greyed-down deep sky blue and accented with coordinating blue and olive green plaid paper and fabrics. 

Giles was reviewing his notes for the tests they would need to perform to get some insight into why Buffy hadn't regained her Slayer strength.  Though certain it would have been easier for him had Spike told his wife what he'd asked of Giles, Giles believed Buffy would be reasonable in allowing him to investigate their concerns.

"Enough of this man," he said to himself. "It's Christmas, for pity's sake."  He went to his suitcase and pulled out a bag of gifts, then headed downstairs.

------- o -------

Dawn was in the kitchen pulling fresh muffins from the oven when Giles came down. He set the bag in the living room near the tree then continued through to greet the young woman.

"Good morning, Dawn. What is that glorious smell?"

Setting the tins on the counter, she replied, "Muffins.  I've got Apple Spice or Honey Bran.  Do you want one?"

"That would be lovely, but I would murder for a cup of-"

"Tea, Giles?"  Buffy stood in the doorway, smiling.  She held a brightly wrapped cubic box in her hand, which she brought to him.  "Merry Christmas."

"Ah yes.  And Happy Christmas to you, Buffy dear."  He fumbled a little with the gift and attempted to go retrieve his present for her.

"Giles, please.  Just sit down and open it."  She nodded to the parcel.

Carefully tearing the paper and lifting the lid off the box, he pulled out a small taupe teapot with two tiny green footprints on either side.

"I took Jack over to one of those paint-your-own-pottery places," Buffy explained shyly.  "I hope you like it."

"It's lovely, Buffy," he said with tears welling in is eyes as he rose to hug her.

------- o -------

In the evening, while Xander and Willow did dishes in the kitchen and Dawn finished clearing up the leftovers, Spike, Giles and Buffy sat admiring the angelic sleeping baby in the middle of the sea of gift boxes and torn paper which remained since they'd all finished opening presents just after noon.

"Buffy-luv," Spike interjected into the peace as he squeezed his dozing wife's hand.  "Rupert and I wanted to talk to you about... about the troubles you've been having.  Not getting your strength back and all."

"Oh?"

"Yes, dear.  Spike tells me your doctor hasn't provided any medical explanation?" Giles coaxed.

"No.  She seems to think I'm perfectly healthy," said Buffy, "thinks our little Jack is the cause of the fatigue."

"Yes, well..." Giles looked to Spike.

Feeling pressured, Spike explained, "I asked Rupert here to do a little research.  See what he could find out about possible causes for your weakness."

"And did you find anything Giles?" a hopeful Buffy inquired.  "Is this another demon thing? How do we stop it? Just say the word-"

"Now Buffy. I haven't been able to attribute the cause to any dark force per se," Giles replied, "but I should like to do some tests."

"What kind of tests?" asked Buffy apprehensively.

"The first is quite simple, really," Giles assured. "We'll draw a little of your blood and combine it with some herbs and things-"

"Gee Rupert, why couldn't you have suggested something like years ago," Spike joked, reflecting how much he'd have loved a "Slayer cocktail" in his vampire days.

The other two were not amused.

Giles continued. "There's a ritual-"

"There's always a ritual," Buffy noted sardonically.

"Quite," the man nodded.  "And depending on the outcome of that test, I should have a better idea with what we are dealing... Shall we get on with it then?  I've got the supplies upstairs in my bag."

------- o -------

The others had joined the three in the living room and were sitting in wide-eyed wonder watching the scene unfold.  First, Spike carefully swabbed Buffy's arm then drew the required blood with the syringe Giles provided.  Meanwhile, in an old rough clay dish, Giles crushed a variety of dried herbs then he slowly added the drawn blood while chanting.  When he'd finished adding the blood, Giles took out a small dried cactus "rain-stick" and held it vertically over the dish.  Finishing the chant, he closed his eyes and began to over-turn the stick allowing all the tiny seeds inside to tumble down.  The gentle sound of rain filled the silence.  Once. Twice.  Three times he turned the stick.  Then he opened his eyes.

They all sat staring at the dish.  Still staring.  Still- Oh!  A quiet sizzle; a tiny puff of smoke.

"Ah... Giles?" Xander broke the silence.  "Is that it?"

"Yeah Giles," added Willow, "What's supposed to happen?"

They all looked at the man curiously.

Glancing about with a raised eyebrow, Giles removed his glasses.

"Oh great," Buffy muttered, "Now what's the problem."

"Oh... right.  Well then.  Buffy, I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this..." he said hesitantly and with a tone of some surprise, "but it would appear that you..."

"Yes?!" they all pressed.

"You seem to have been released from your Calling," said Giles plainly.

Unclear as to what Giles intended, Buffy inquired, "What do you mean 'released'?"

"Well dear.  This is really rather... remarkable.  While I had hypothesized the cause of your weakness, indeed I've no knowledge of any precedent for this," the man began to ramble.  "I'm certain the Council will be interested in investigating this further or at very least making a full account of it for their records.  Of course, there's nothing to say you have to-"

"For God's sake, Rupert," a frustrated Spike interrupted. "Could you bl-oody well get to the bl-eeding point?!"

"Well, it appears as though the reason Buffy hasn't regained her strength is simply because she's no longer the Slayer.  I can't say for certain why, but it would seem that motherhood has released her from her duty.  One could certainly say that she has new responsibilities.  Perhaps this is her reward for her years of service," Giles proposed.  "Thirteen- almost fourteen years as the Slayer is an astounding time.  Buffy, you've outlived your next closest 'colleague' by more than five years."

"I don't understand," stated a shocked Buffy.

"I'm not certain I do either, Buffy," Giles supported, "but perhaps we don't have to understand.  After all, we don't really know why you were chosen in the first place... only that it was prophesied.  Truly there is a lot the Council still doesn't know about the essence of the Slayer."

"Well, I think we should all just consider ourselves lucky that you're not going to have to risk your life any more," Dawn declared.

"Here-here Bit," seconded Spike.

"I think this is cause for a toast," Willow said.  "Xander, could you give me a hand in the kitchen?" 

A stunned Buffy got up and, staring blindly, walked into the hall.  

Spike quickly followed behind her.  "What is it, luv?"

"Spike, I..."  Buffy found herself repeating to Spike the very words she'd spoken to Angel a decade earlier, "I can't just be a regular person.  I can't be helpless like that.  What am I going to do now?" she asked hopelessly.

Turning her to face the living room filled with her family:  Dawn, Giles, Willow, Xander, baby Jack... Spike enveloped his wife in his strong warm arms, resting his head against hers.  His dulcet voice whispered in her ear, "You're going to live, Buffy."


	14. Epilogue Until Death Us Do Part

Epilogue:  UNTIL DEATH.

Buffy sat alone in the quiet darkness of their bedroom:  staring at the floor, fighting back her tears.

------- o -------

The end was ironic:  a man who had been immortal --- who, for more than few lifetimes, had looked the picture of youth and physical health, though admittedly a bit pale --- would meet a very ordinary, human death.  A being that had "lived" so long without a heartbeat would suddenly die the same way.  Drusilla's vision of years ago had come to fruition:  God, or fate, the Great Spirit, the Powers-that-Be, whomever, had indeed reclaimed his heart. 

He paid little attention when the Dark Princess called after him that night in the cemetery, the first time he'd seen her since regaining his human life.  She'd been mocking him for loving the Slayer, for giving her his heart.  As he turned to leave, she'd cried out, "They want it back!"  And now, "they" had it.

William Edward Summers:  "Wills" to his mates at the Pub; "Dad" to his precious Jack Giles and Tricia Joyce; "Mr. Summers" to countless store clerks, hotel concierges and restaurant maitre d's across the country; the renowned T.B. Williams to horror story enthusiasts around the world; and to the one person closest to him in all that world, in all his long life, "Spike" to his cherished "Buffy-luv".  Died peacefully in his sleep.  Heart-attack.  At the age of 184 (officially 67 to the various US and British Government agencies which had him on record).

"Peaceful" was how his sleep had been since the day he and Buffy were married.  She'd given him a ring:  custom-made, it was a larger more masculine version of the one he'd given her, his mother's peridot ring.  Apparently it was true what Willow had told Buffy years ago:  the stone had protected the wearer from evil and the night terrors that had plagued him before that spring afternoon... or it was perhaps the enduring bond created that day, entwining, like the twisted gold bands of that ring, his life with the woman he loved.

He had traded eternal life for the chance of love, and regretted not one single day after he'd reunited with her.  Oh, there were arguments, struggles, fights...  She was after all, still Buffy Anne Summers and he was still "Spike".  Even the most perfect love isn't without its difficulties, but through their darkest moments, they loved each other and knew there was always light to come.

They left the Sunnydale City Limits --- the limits previously imposed on her by her duties as the Slayer --- to make a new life for themselves.  The Hellmouth was never the safest place to live or raise a family, but for a former-Slayer and a demon-killing-vampire-turned-human, the move was... something of a necessity.

As a family, he'd introduced her to "footie" and eventually she was a regular "soccer mom" --- though they both refused to become "mini-van people".  And she had actually managed to get him on ice skates on more than one occasion.  (Of course, in both cases they only did it "for the children" --- but secretly they loved it.)  There were birthday parties and picnics; summer vacations and holiday meals with their extended family; school plays and dances; barbecues on Father's Day, and Mother's Day breakfast in bed.  And together, they'd snuck out of PTA meetings, charity dinners and book signings to snog like teenagers.  Simple pleasures.

Together they'd travelled the world.  They marvelled at the enormity of the Pyramids at Giza, the vastness of the Great Wall, the spectacle of Venezuela's Angel Falls, even the simple beauty of the rocky British coastline.  With relish, they read poetry surrounded by great works of art at the Louvres and the Guggenhiem.  They'd sampled food and drink from all regions of the globe and though he could never convince her of the inferiority of American beer, she happily conceded that Dutch "french fries" and dark Belgian chocolate were the best in the world, and that North American "Chinese food" and "pizza" couldn't be compared with the real thing.  Everywhere they went, viewing the world through her eyes was like seeing it all for the first time.  He was in awe of her... always.

Spike's loving Buffy had saved her life and others several times over and made his own more full than he dreamed possible.  Her loving him had given her a new purpose, a second Calling, a truly normal life --- in the best sense of the word.  For that, she loved him all the more. 

Now, she would have to carry on in that life without his sense of humour to "annoy" her and his strong warm embrace to comfort her...

------- o -------

A soft rapping on the door startled Buffy.

"Mum?" inquired a deep gentle voice.  "Are you alright?"

As the door opened and she saw the two figures in the entrance, Buffy realized that a part of her treasured Spike would live on... in the bright azure eyes and fair skin of his daughter and the lean sculptured frame and defined angular face of his son.  In that, she would find solace.

~*  Their love, complete with the trust of "old marrieds", was passionate to the end. *~


End file.
